Ace in the Hole
by Bekala
Summary: The men of SAMCRO are out of Stockton but the new Cartel deal is putting stress on the slowly dividing club. When Romeo requests that they guard a mysterious woman for a few days the MC ends up in the dangerous cross-fire of nationally organized crime. Can they find a way out and keep themselves whole? *Season 4 - End of Series*
1. Chapter 1

Jax had been having such a good day. A good few days really. A week out of Stockton Prison, back with his wife, kids, and family. The timeout pay had been good and while the club had a few new long-term problems to take care of, overall things were looking up. The plan at Opie's wedding had gone off without a hitch and there'd even been time to get in a dance with Tara.

Jax was a smart man, he knew Tara had struggled while he'd been in jail. Gemma had brought in good reports of her stepping up and raising the boys. Tara had raved about the help she'd gotten from the club and his brothers on the outside but Jax could see that his Old Lady's smiles didn't reach her eyes. The fact that he and Tara were on the same page about SAMCRO for probably the first time ever wasn't surprising. For once they had a physical link that mirrored their tumultuous emotional one in the form of three-month-old Thomas.

The baby's shared genetics called to Jax more than he'd like to admit. It wasn't that he didn't love Abel. He would do anything for either of his boys but he'd gotten off his bike in the TM lot after over a year away and there was something about Tara standing there holding a baby that looked like both of them that had Jax's stomach all twisted up. He would find a way to get his family clear of the blood and save his boys from a club future. He'd find a way to keep them all happy and whole.

He'd been expecting the conversation Tara had started when he proposed. He'd been prepared for it. He wasn't lying when he said that all he'd thought about for 14 months was how to get his family away from SAMCRO and into a safer way of life. He wasn't sure if it had been this last set of jail time, Thomas' arrival, or his father's manuscript; but something or a collection of somethings, had made it clear to him that the outlaw way of life was not where he needed to be.

The IRA deal was supposed to be his chance to make bank for a while before he made a graceful exit. Clay had, of course, shit on the entire thing when he'd made the jailhouse deal to mule coke for the Cartel but even that hadn't completely ruined Jax's good mood. He'd managed to come to an agreement with Clay and work the problem into a bit of a solution. He wouldn't say he was thrilled about the new situation but at least now there was a timeline on the exit strategy.

Tara seemed content, or at least on her way there, no matter how many back-up plans he could see floating behind her eyes. If Tara could deal and it generated a way out, Jax was happy to help Clay with his stupid drug vote. Hell, he'd even been happy to mule the drugs himself, but this latest fuckery was a step too far.

The call had come in a few hours ago. Romeo Parada had called Clay asking for a favor, a very lucrative one apparently. Clay had jumped like the well petted dog he was and now here they were flying down i5 towards some new and unsavory connection with the fucking Cartel. Jax stares down the stretch of road in front of him letting his thoughts about the last week fade into the background of rumbling engines.

He has no doubt whatever this favor is it won't make it to a table vote and that thought has his gloved hands tightening, itching to hit the throttle and open the Dyna up. He could leave all this behind in a moment, but there's a growl from his left and Clay pulls up to ride next to him. Like he'd sensed trouble Jax looks over to see his step-father and president watching him. Jax nods to the older man and taps his brakes dropping back to follow Clay's lead.

* * *

The location they'd been directed to was an industrial district outside Lodi along route 12. Jax took a hard look at the small warehouse as he parked his bike next to Clay, just in front of the club van driven by Phil. The older man was already climbing off his bike and tugging at one riding glove. Jax didn't miss the subtle wince as Clay tugged the leather over stiff fingers. The building was old but well maintained and a sign at the turn off had identified it as a custom welding shop. A collection of gated and locked gas tanks to the left confirm some type of torch work takes place inside although Jax figures it wouldn't be hard to leave empties around for cover.

"He said to meet him around back. Phil stay with the van." Clay's tone is tense and Jax can see he's not happy that no one met them at the front.

"Clay, what is this?" Jax had asked the question once before they'd left for Lodi but Clay's response was just "a favor" and a look that indicated further information was not going to be forth coming.

"Let's find out." Clay's voice is firm and Jax rolls his shoulders as he follows the older man down the long side of the building and around the corner.

The back is set up like a loading zone with tall roll-up doors designed to accommodate semi-trucks. All three bays are closed tight a with no trucks in sight but Jax follows Clay as he heads for a fourth office door set against the corner. He tenses as the door opens before they reach it and his hand is tight on the handle of the gun tucked under his cut. Luis Torres is easy to recognize in the slice of light coming from behind the door.

"Stand down" The call comes from Luis and Jax watches as Clay's hands both become visible, held up in the traditional sign of surrender.

"No problem brother." Clay says and Jax pushes down his annoyance at the term of endearment being used on someone outside the club. They step into the little office standing uncomfortably in the space while Luis secures the door.

"Thank you for making such good time. Did you bring a van?" Luis's voice is tight and Jax can smell gunpowder in the air.

"Van's out front with a driver. I thought Romeo was going to be here." Clay is always one to get straight to business so Jax just leans himself against the far wall and looks around the room.

It's a small office and well maintained with two exits, one leading back outside and the other into what Jax assumes is the rest of the building. There's a pinup calendar over the desk and filing cabinets fill one corner. He can see a collection of papers on the desk that look like shipping invoices. If it wasn't for the large red blood splatter on the wall just to the left of the interior door Jax is sure he'd be able to get his shoulders to stop feeling so tight. This entire situation has his hackles up and he's on high alert.

"Romeo had to deal with some other business. He felt we could take care of what's left here on our own." Luis seems to have let his guard down a bit and while the man never really smiles Jax can see he's relaxed. "Come on, I'll show you to the favor." Luis turns pulling open the interior door as he speaks and Clay moves to follow.

"Jesus Christ" Clay's exclamation is soft and genuine and even though Jax can't see through the door around the man's broad shoulders he's sure he won't like what's on the other side. "If the favor is clean up, we are going to need more than our van." Clay moves forward on the words and Jax follows him into the rest of the building trying to ignore the metallic scent of blood that slaps him in the face.

The inside of the warehouse is one big space and there are three sets of tables lined up in columns down the length of the room. From his minimal experience in the drug trade he can tell this is a cut and bag operation. The tables are strewn with bricks of white powder, smaller street baggies, and tubs of what he can only guess is the cutting product. It's not the drugs that are shocking though, it's the bodies.

Men and women, most of them wearing smocks, hairnets, and latex gloves are everywhere. Their blood is spilled across the tables, splattered onto walls, and pools of it have started to gather near drains in the warehouse floor. This was a massacre and Jax, no stranger to blood, can feel his stomach churning at the smell of death.

Luis says nothing as he deftly steps through the carnage leading them to another door on the far side of the big room. Jax spares a glance for his step-father but finds him staring stoically ahead, eyes focused on the goal. Typical Clay.

"This is our favor." Luis leads them into a bathroom and Jax's happiness that the room is blood free is short-lived when he sees room's lone occupant.

The woman is tied to a chair in the middle of the tiled room, her feet lashed to the legs of the chair and hands caught up behind her back. She looks to be about 30, with close cropped dark hair and dark eyes set in a bruised heart shaped face. Jax watches those dark eyes widen as Luis steps up to stand behind her, his heavy hands coming down to rest on her shoulders.

"I gotta say, considering what we just walked through it seems a waste to call us down here to off a little thing like her." Clay speaks on a laugh and Jax recognizes the President's classic attempt to lighten up a very dark situation. Luis smiles and it's not a pleasant sight.

"No, no. Our little lady here is far too important for a quick bullet to the head. Aren't you querido?" Luis says the last part into the woman's ear and Jax doesn't miss the way she refuses to react to the question.

"Who is she?" Clay has stepped forward and is looking at her intently. "She looks like she's had better days." Jax agrees and takes a moment to look closer. In addition to the fresh bruise coming up on one cheek he can see a steady drip of blood coming from behind the chair where her hands are tied. He guesses from the labored look of her breathing there might be wounds he can't see.

"She probably has. This warehouse belongs to the Lobos Sonora, an informant brought it to our attention recently." Luis pauses to let this information sink in. "We handled the operation but then we found her hiding in the back. Our man tells us she's the money front for the whole thing but we can't get a word out of her and we tried. Didn't we?" Luis again directs this last part at his prisoner but she just stares straight ahead only moving to duck her head when he starts to run a finger down her bruised cheek. "Romeo doesn't want her killed, but we need her safe and clear of our usual spots while we deal with the rest of the blow back from this. She could be very valuable later and we don't like to dispose of valuables until the right time."

"So, the favor is protection?" Clay is nodding as he speaks and Jax can feel a headache starting just between his eyes. Clay may be willing to take on protection but if this woman is important it could mean getting SAMCRO caught between two very powerful drug cartels. There is no way the small club stays upright if they're caught in the crossfire of an all-out drug war.

"Protection and information gathering. We're going to keep looking for leads on her and her connections to Lobos Sonora but we can't have her hanging around while we're taking care of things. Keep her whole for us until we need her." The promise and the threat in Luis's words is not lost on anyone in the small room except maybe the woman. Jax is surprised to notice she seems to be attempting to get a good look at herself in the mirror over the small sink, her face calm and impassive in the face of an uncertain future.

"We've got this. Never met a woman I couldn't annoy into talking." Clay smiles and Luis laughs at the joke. Jax decides silence is best here, he doesn't trust himself to talk just yet.

"Excellent, we'll be checking in and, of course," Luis reaches for a bag that had gone previously unnoticed and holds it out to Clay, "your compensation as promised."

Loading up the woman is easier than expected. After Clay took a cursory glance into the bag of money and shook Luis's hand the Cartel enforcer had excused himself to make a call. Jax assumed it was the call that would summon a cleanup crew for the mess in the warehouse. Once they were alone with the woman Jax thought to finally raise his concerns but Clay had just raised his hand.

"We're in it already brother. Nothing to do about it now." Clay's words weren't what he wanted to hear but they were accurate. They were in it now and the only thing to do was push forward. So Jax volunteered to get the woman moving while Clay went to get Phil and stash the cash.

* * *

Alone in the room with her, Jax takes a long moment to look her over again. She is definitely leaning to the left and he guesses she may have a broken rib, the damage hidden under the tight black t-shirt she is wearing. He kneels behind her and can't help the hiss of sympathy as he realizes the dripping blood he'd noticed earlier was from three missing fingernails on her right hand.

"If I untie you are you going to hit me?" His voice sounds too loud in the echoing bathroom. He expects an answer but she doesn't move just continues to stare straight ahead. Fine with him.

He tugs at the ropes and as soon as her hands are free she pulls them to her lap and he watches as she massages her wrists, dipping her head to inspect the missing fingernails closely. The ropes around her ankles are tighter but with a few pulls he gets them undone and she doesn't wait before standing. She's taller than he expects, the top of her head coming to his chin.

"Come on then." He speaks as he turns for the door and he's already three steps into the warehouse before he realizes she's not following. He ducks back pulling the door open to find her still standing in the room. "Come on." He maintains eye contact as he speaks and puts some extra force behind the words, holding out his hand. He's not surprised she ignores his hand but this time when he moves she steps forward. He holds the door open forcing her to walk in front of him through the bloody warehouse.

Luis is nowhere to be found and for a moment before they reach the external door Jax worries this entire thing is a setup and they're about to walk into the entire Sheriff's department but when the door opens it's just to Phil and Clay standing by the van. The woman climbs into the van without protest although Jax doesn't miss the way her breath hitches at the effort. They'll have to get her medical attention.

"Any issues?" Clay is looking at her while he talks to Jax.

"Nope, not a one. You sure this is the right play?" Jax knows it's a dumb question to ask in front of the prospect but he can't help himself anymore.

"What?" Clay asks and Jax recognizes his cocky-diffuse-the-situation smile, "you don't think we can manage one quiet woman for a weekend?" It's Phil not Jax who laughs at the joke but Jax knows this means the conversation is closed for now. He pushes his anger down and tries to stay calm.

"Should we tie her up for the drive?" It's the first thing Phil has said since they ordered him into the van and Jax once again thanks God for the big prospect's easy-going nature.

"What do you think darlin'? Do we need to tie you up?" She doesn't react to Clay's question just continues to stare blankly at the wall of the van. "Weird girl." Clay comments with a shake of his head.

"I think she'll be fine Phil. You could take her, she's already been beat up once tonight." Jax tries to put some finality in his voice and the prospect seems to take his word for it because he slams the door of the van closed before heading for the driver's seat.

There's something else wrong with the woman, Jax is sure of it. Her reactions, body language, nothing about it made any sense. The way she'd just stood there when he'd told her to follow, the way she ignored them when they spoke. She was either a very talented and well-trained player or just a pawn caught up in all this with no idea what's going on. Both options make him nervous and he hopes they can figure it out before either Cartel comes calling again.

"You ready?" Clay is watching him with bright eyes and Jax has no option but to nod and follow him to the bikes. He hopes the ride back will help him get his head right for what comes next.

* * *

"Bring a van and your VP", Clay can still hear Galindo's words echoing in his head. He knew Jax was suspicious and to be fair Clay doesn't exactly trust the Mexican drug lord either but he needs this. He'd given his life to this club, sinking everything he has into it for over twenty years and at 58 with hands that could barely make a fist he has almost nothing to show for it. He owes too many people too much to fade out with no back up plan or future stability. He owes Gemma a quiet retirement, he owes his grandkids the chance to be spoiled, he owes himself some real time off. If a favor to the cartel makes that happen faster Clay doesn't mind.

Clay watches as Jax drops his bike back to ride just in front of the club van. The MC president could practically feel the tension rolling off the younger man. Jax had been on edge since they'd met Romeo Parada and Luis Torres in the junk yard and the entire drug muling plan had come into play. This new development with the beaten woman certainly wasn't making things better. Clay loves the younger man, he has no regrets about brining Jackson into his home when JT died but the boy drives him crazy sometimes.

He'd done his best to raise Jax into a good man but sometimes the brooding just really pisses him off. Clay hadn't survived the outlaw life for all these years by brooding, it wasn't possible. This is a life for simple men. Not stupid men, but simple ones. If you can't trust yourself and get right with living in the gray space between good and bad then you really can't cut it in the 1%.

Clay has made it as far as he has by being decisive, steady, and ruthless. It kills him that Jax can't seem to find those qualities in himself. There is no room for second guesses in their world and while Jax seems locked in on a goal right now Clay is well aware the last 2 years have been nothing but waffling back and forth for the boy. Maybe that was over and maybe it wasn't but Clay is sure of one thing, he isn't going to put money on Jax's current goal staying static. Until he is sure Jax has his head clear Clay is going to hold his cards close and keep watch.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

 **This is going to be a long story that will include most of season 4's main plot points plus a lot of new content. Many of the show's events take place but most take place off stage, so to speak, and not always in the same order. Some events and storylines are excluded to prevent drag and because they have no bearing on the direct plot. There are also several shifts in timing, mostly that it has been extended dramatically and some changes to character placement throughout the events. All of this was done in an effort to create a strong narrative.**

 **If you have arrived here after following Damned With You, I owe you an apology. I started that piece and never finished it, I don't intend to now. I promise that will not be the case with this story which is almost fully drafted, over 100k words already written. I know how frustrating it can be to get into a fanfic and find it incomplete and I extend to you my most sincere apologies. I hope that you can forgive me and enjoy this story instead.**

 **All reviews are welcome. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chibs stares down into his whiskey. It is never a good thing when a Scottish man is too upset to drink. He can hear the lads behind him playing pool and enjoying their new-found freedom. Chibs has done his time before and he knows what a man wants when he gets out after a year on the inside. Despite the slowly rising drama with the Cartel deal and the carnage at Opie's wedding the clubhouse has stayed particularly rowdy since his brothers had returned from Stockton and he really can't blame them.

He'd seen Jackie-boy's face as he'd followed Clay out on some unspoken mission for their new _business partners_ and Chibs can feel the dark clouds that are slowly gathering around the club. He's not a young man, not anymore, and he had a lot of time to think while the bulk of the club had been away. He's not sure how many more storms he can weather before one just blows him away.

The fourteen months of relative quiet had been nice though, almost too nice. He'd managed to sneak away once in the middle of their sentence back to Belfast. Spending a week with Kerrianne was a bright spot. One Chibs knew he'd have to pull on for a long time, it would be awhile before he was able to go back again. Even as the time with his daughter had been incredible the time spent with his wife was less than he'd imagined.

Fiona had changed in the years they'd spent apart and finally being free of Jimmy and living on her own with Kerri seemed to have opened up something unexpected inside of her. She'd be welcoming and sweet and he'd shared her bed a few times while he was there but he hadn't been surprised when she'd settled him down to have a talk on his last day in town. Time apart she'd said, space, freedom to choose. They were all words he'd heard before but not ones he'd expected to come from his Fi after he'd finally gotten them all free of their boogeyman.

He couldn't say he didn't understand though. Chibs had put Fiona through hell for the first six years of their relationship between the RIRA and SAMBEL. Then she'd been under Jimmy's thumb for the next 12 years and was it any wonder the woman wanted a chance to get to know herself alone. The chance to find a future of freedom as she'd put it. The details of what she wanted were murky but the message had been clear. Chibs was welcome to visit his daughter anytime and he would always have a family in Belfast but there was no future for him with Fiona. So, he'd come home, told the boys he'd had an amazing time, and kept this newest heartbreak to himself. There was enough on the horizon for SAMCRO without adding his own worries to the pile.

The sound of two bikes pulling into the lot force Chibs out of his thoughts and he takes a deep breath before downing the contents of the glass in front of him. He pushes away from the bar and turns to survey his brothers. It's early yet and no one looks particularly drunk, he can sense a tightness in the group. Chibs hadn't been the only one to notice the tension between their president and VP as they'd left the clubhouse earlier and while the boys all look occupied he can tell most of them are prepared for anything to walk back through that door.

Well almost anything, even Chibs isn't prepared for the sight of a happy Clay and a sullen Jax followed by Phil escorting a young dark-haired woman.

"Chapel." Clay's voice rings out over the room in a way that brooks no argument and Chibs watches his brothers disengage from their various activities. Pulling away from eager croweaters, dropping cards on tables, and laying down pool cues. The Scot moves away from the bar heading for the black doors and his seat at the rosewood table.

"Who's the pick-up bitch?" Tig speaks first and he's voiced the question on everyone's mind.

"Protection detail for the Galindo Cartel. We've been asked to do our new brown friends a favor and keep an eye on the girl for a few days while they figure out who she is." Clay is leaning back in his chair as he speaks and he lets his eyes scan the men gathered around the table. Chibs can tell the older man doesn't want there to be too much discussion around the issue. He's probably trying to avoid a table vote on an issue he's already assured the Cartel will be handled.

"Protection from who?" Bobby asks looking curious.

"Lobos Sonora Cartel, a rival." Jax's voice is dripping with contempt as he speaks and Clay tenses visibly at the candor.

"Tha's quite a bit of protection." Chibs finally speaks up and he knows he's going to have to walk the usual tightrope between Clay and Jax. He can feel the weight of their constant conflict settle on his shoulders.

"We've been assured the blowback is being contained and we're being very well compensated." As though he'd been waiting for this moment Clay stands up and puts the black duffle bag he'd been carrying on the table with a thump. The zipper is pulled back and from his seat Chibs can see what has to be at least $500k in neatly wrapped cash inside. It is a familiar move from Clay and Chibs lets out a low whistle as he looks towards Jax to see if the younger man recognizes the moment from their last vote.

"Seems t'me like a lot of green for a lil'protection detail." Chibs shifts his eyes to meet Clay's as he speaks and is not surprised when his president keeps his gaze focused elsewhere.

"That's because it's not a little protection detail. We had to walk through a pile of bodies to pick her up and there's the matter of information gathering." Jax sounds ready to burst as he spits out the words and Chibs wonders how much of the drive back from Lodi the VP spent trying to figure out how to fight this particular battle.

"This is easy money and an easy favor." Clay's palm slams the table for emphasis and there are a few sounds of agreement from around the table.

"There's something wrong with that woman Clay. She's too calm, didn't react to a single one of Luis's threats. What does she know that we don't." Jax fires back.

"Maybe she's just really dumb?" Tig can't take his eyes off the money as he speaks.

Chibs takes a deep breath. He knows how this will play out. They can argue all night but the reality is when you're in business with the Cartel there is no halfway. The money on the table was a nice touch, it would make them feel like they had a choice but they didn't. What the Cartel wanted the Cartel got.

"We should vote." Jax has finally crossed the line and Clay's shoulders tighten dangerously.

"Not really worth it boyo." Chibs sighs out the words and he knows his accent is thicker than usual in his resignation. "I doubt protection detail is really a choice. We might as well do what we can to keep the lass safe until they want her back." He keeps his eyes on Jax as he speaks and hopes the younger man reads the seriousness of the situation.

"So, Bobby get a—" Clay's pending order is put on hold by the sound of a crash through the closed chapel door. "What the fuck." Clay is on his feet and moving but Tig makes it out the door first followed closely by Chibs and Bobby.

On any other day and with any other person the scene in front of them would have been comical. Miles, the latest prospect, is on his back in the middle of the room clearly having taken a tumble over a now damaged table. The woman they're all supposed to be protecting is standing over him, a booted foot pressed between his legs her hands gesturing wildly down at him while Phil hovers nearby trying to figure out what to do.

"Jesus, can someone get our _guest_ off the prospect!" Clay sounds like he can't decide if he's amused or pissed and Tig lunges forward to grab the woman her hands still moving wildly. She's taken completely by surprise at Tig's attack despite his heavy footfalls and the Sergeant at Arms has no trouble getting his arms around her middle and lifting her off Miles' crotch.

"What happened? Phil, you were supposed to keep an eye on her." Jax is looking back and forth between the prospects and Chibs doesn't miss that only one of the men appears guilty.

"She wouldn't talk but I figured maybe she was just scared. I went to make her a cup of tea." The giant of a man is in fact holding a steaming mug. Chibs shifts his gaze to Miles.

"An' what did yeh do while Phil was gettin' the lass her tea?" The Scot can't help the accusation in his tone. If what Jax said at the table is accurate this is the most active the woman has been all night and she's had quite a night. The boy must have done something to her.

"I didn't do anything she said no to." The guilty prospect won't meet anyone's eyes and it's obvious he's covering up for a bad decision.

"Tiggy, let her go." Bobby's words pull Chibs' attention away from the prospect and towards the woman who Tig has wrapped up in a bear hug. Now that he's got a moment to really look at her Chibs understands Miles' desire although not his methods.

She's a pretty woman, even with the bruise blooming on her cheek. She stands about 5'7", the top of her head hitting just under Tig's chin. She's a thin thing and Chibs gets the impression it's more from lack of food than natural metabolism. Her dark hair is cut short, he almost smiles at the idea that she's got shorter hair than most of the men in the room. She's got a heart shaped face and full pink lips but it's her eyes that draw the most attention. Large and liquid dark, they're intelligent and he doesn't miss the way they dart around the room taking in every detail.

Tig's arms finally go slack around her and the woman steps forward angrily, her eyes flashing from one face to the next. She gestures again with her hands, her face flashing through a number of expressions.

"What is she doing?" Tig seems enthralled by her movements as he speaks. "Use your words." This last bit is directed at the woman and it seems to set her off as the gestures get wilder and then her hand flicks out from under her chin in a gesture they're all familiar with.

"Well that's at least something recognizable. Maybe she doesn't speak English?" Juice pipes up from the back of the group but Jax is already shaking his head.

"Luis questioned her in English and Spanish. He said they didn't get anything out her." Jax, like all the brothers, has his eyes trained on her as he speaks.

"She could just be really stupid." Tig suggests his previous theory.

"Does it really matter? We have to watch her anyway." Clay enters the conversation business as usual.

"What is she doing with her hands? We could cut them off, Chucky could have a little girlfriend." It's Happy with the most immediate and potentially violent solution.

"No one is cutting off her hands." Jax has authority in his voice and Chibs is glad to hear there won't be an amputation tonight.

She finally seems to realize this is getting her nowhere and goes still with a loud huff. Her dark eyes scan their ranks as they stand in front of her and she shows no fear or intimidation, just utter confusion. She seems to be working through something, her body slowly relaxing almost muscle by muscle and she takes a long breath in like she's trying to find something reassuring to suck out of the very air.

She moves slowly this time the movements less wild and more controlled and the more Chibs watches her the more he realizes the movements aren't random. It's the same series of gestures over and over again. He watches as she uses her left palm to gesture to her chest and then makes a sweeping movement down her front before using the same left hand to do a complicated set of finger gestures. Then a with a wince she brings both her left and right index fingers together point to point twisting them in the air. She does it again and then again. It seems they've been standing there forever but Chibs knows it's only been a moment since the crash pulled them from Chapel.

"I know what this is. I know." Bobby is speaking softly but he steps forward out of the group to stand directly in front of the woman. He reaches out to still the woman's hands and then speaks slowly looking directly into her face, every word enunciated carefully. "Are you deaf?"

Her hands go still and her large dark eyes are focused on Bobby's mouth like a laser. She nods.

"You have got to be kidding me." Jax sounds like he's on the edge of total collapse.

"Shut up, let Bobby talk to her." Juice speaks over the tension.

"She can't hear dumbass it doesn't matter if we talk over him." Kozik smacks the younger man upside the head as he speaks and it's like air has been let out of the room. Those who didn't get it suddenly understand and everyone relaxes into what is not a normal but at least a now clear situation. Chibs keeps his eyes locked on Bobby.

"I don't know any signs anymore, not really." The older man says still speaking clearly and directly into her face. "Can you read lips?" Again, a nod. "Are you hurt?" Another nod. "Are you hungry?" Continued nodding.

"Okay then." Clay is taking charge of his club and the drama of the moment forces the conversation in the Chapel fade. An unspoken agreement is made that protection is now the status quo. "Bobby, you got this tonight?" The bearded Elvis impersonator throws a yes over his shoulder and it's a dismissal letting everyone else get back to their evening.

"Chibs you want to help me patch her up. She's breathing heavy to the left and I don't think we can call the doc." Bobby keeps his face turned towards her as he speaks and Chibs guesses it's so she can continue to read his lips.

"Aye, I'll get m'kit." He moves deeper into the clubhouse as he speaks and Clay grabs his arm as he goes.

"Thank you for your support at the table." There's a smile on Clay's face that Chibs doesn't like. As though the President thinks Chibs did it for him rather than to save them all from Cartel blowback.

"Anytime brotha." He mutters, might as well let the President believe what he needs to believe.

* * *

 **-Author's Note-**

 **The main OC in this story is deaf. I am not deaf but I have personal experience with the community and am hard of hearing. I wanted to write a deaf character for my own growth as a writer and person. Additionally, I think the deaf perspective is wonderfully unique and can create a compelling story for anyone interested in reading. I will also note that deaf here does not mean mute and the OC, like many deaf people, is capable of a range of sounds including occasional speech.**

 **I do my best throughout the story to be true to the culture and signs but there are some known missteps. For example, lipreading is generally demonstrated in this text as a process that allows the deaf person to receive every word spoken. This is not the case but license was taken for literary purposes. Signs are also regularly described and I did my best but there is only so much the written word can convey. ASL is a beautiful three-dimensional language that requires the entire body, it is not easy to translate onto the page without images.**

 **It is worth noting that the syntax and structure of ASL is very different from English. While this is conveyed through the sign descriptions as much as possible the written expression of what is being said is conveyed to the reader in English. For example, in English we would say** **"I washed my car last week" but in ASL this would most likely be signed "Week-past, I wash my car". In this story the signs, when described, will be in ASL format but written out as dialogue in the English format. If you are interested in learning more about ASL and deaf culture I encourage you to go out and Google! I will try to put some useful resources on my profile as well.**

 **A quick note on formatting, because the OC is deaf most of her communication is not audible. She does use multiple mediums (meaning ASL, paper, typing on a phone), some of which may translate written text verbally, however, to avoid confusion all inaudible dialog is presented in italics regardless of medium.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N at the end of chapter. I hope you enjoy. All reviews welcome. A quick thank you to Momoftwins1970, Nerdy-Country-Gril89, bikechika, Robin D., MUW D'Bellegirl, and Guest for the reviews. You guys made my week!**

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Kit bag in hand, Chibs finds Bobby and the woman in the kitchen. She's sitting in the only chair and now that her panic has worn off Chibs can see what Bobby was saying about breathing rough. One of her hands is pressed against her left side and the cadence of her chest looks out of sync.

"How do I go about this then?" Chibs leans against the counter still looking at the woman as he talks and even though he's speaking to Bobby he's watching her.

"Just speak clearly and while facing her directly. She won't hear you even if you speak up so just talk slowly and—" Bobby tails off for a moment "— try to tone down your accent maybe? I don't know how that works here."

Here goes nothing Chibs thinks as he crouches down in front of her, putting his face closer to her eye level. Her dark eyes contain a bright intelligence and they lock in, meeting his own lighter brown irises before sliding down to study his scarred cheeks finally settling on his mouth. He used to hate it when people stared too long at his face, he knew they were wondering about what terrible thing he'd done to earn him the disfiguring marks. It's not like a man can pick up a Glasgow Smile just anywhere. He's gotten used to it over the years but there's still some lingering discomfort. Here though, he knows there's no choice. She can't read his lips if she's not looking.

"Alright lass." He attempts to speak slowly and enunciate. "Can you understand me?"

She nods

"I'm not a doctor but I can patch yeh up. Aye?" He struggles to keep his accent away as he speasks. She nods again, her left hand coming up to give him the universal "Ok" hand signal. He smiles at her. Seems she can read lips well regardless.

"Where's it hurt?" He asks.

She holds out her right hand, fingers spread wide and he hisses at the sight three missing nails.

"I think that's why she wouldn't take the pen and paper I offered." Bobby says from over his shoulder and Chibs nods. He's had fingernails ripped out before, he knows the weakness and shaky fingers it can cause and feels a swell of sympathy for this woman who uses her hands to speak. This is equivalent of cutting out her tongue. He looks back up to her face and makes sure she's focused before he speaks.

"I'll clean it up and wrap them. It will hurt, understand?" He waits for her nod before he speaks again. "We have painkillers for after." She nods again. "Where else does it hurt?"

This time she doesn't nod but stands and despite her earlier agility the movement is unsteady. Chibs puts a hand on her thigh as she rises to keep her on her feet. She uses her good hand to tug at the hem of her shirt but the leverage isn't right and she lets out a huff of annoyance.

"If she's going to get topless you should probably take her to one of the dorms, don't want the boys to get the wrong idea." Bobby is ever practical and Chibs nods along. Pushing up from his crouch he reaches out to still her.

"Your ribs?" He asks. She nods. "Okay, I'm going to take yeh to a dorm room for that. Another room for privacy. Understand?" She nods again. He wonders if her neck ever gets tired.

"I'll bring food back when it's done." Bobby says and Chibs nods to the older man before turning back to the woman.

"Come on lass." He holds out his hand to her, she ignores it, but follows as he leads her out of the kitchen and down the hall to the dorms.

The clubhouse has cleared out some while they've been in the kitchen and only those brothers with nowhere else to sleep are still in the main room shooting pool and playing cards. No one bothers them as they move past. He takes her to one of the extra rooms Gemma maintains for visiting Nomads.

Chibs doesn't know where she'll stay while they're keeping her, well prisoner is more honest than protected, but this room will do for tonight. He throws his kit on the bed and turns to look at her. She's got an eyebrow up at the small room and he watches as she takes it all in a sarcastic smile turning up one corner of her mouth at the pinup over the bed.

"Aye, we're all dirty old men." He didn't think she'd been watching his mouth but she must have because she smiles just a bit and lets out an amused huff of air. "Okay, let's see the ribs." He motions to her side as he speaks and she looks away for a minute before again using her good hand to tug at the top. He watches her struggle for a moment before stepping forward. He goes to touch her but thinks better of it, instead waving a hand in her line of sight until she looks up to his face again.

"Can I help?" He motions to the bottom of her shirt and she seems to consider him carefully before she nods and gives the OK sign again.

The whole things feels wrong but Chibs isn't sure why. Maybe the fact that she seems almost doubly vulnerable between the injuries and the lack of hearing. He reaches out for the hem of the shirt and pulls it up. She helps by lifting her arms but he hears her hiss in pain. With her left in nothing but a bra he can see why. Her entire left side is one giant bruise. He bends his head to inspect the damage before looking back up at her face. Not missing the fact that she's so thin every rib is visible.

"I'm going to have to feel it. Figure out if it's broken." She nods and then holds up her left hand with just her index finger pointing straight up she tilts the hand from side to side before it shifts and her hand is open palm with her thumb tucked over facing him, she motions her hand along her head this way mimicking what appears to be long hair. She gives him a look with her eyebrows raised that seems to say _this is a question, pay attention._

"I don't understand lass." She ignores him and makes the set of motions again her eyebrows rising high, her chin jutting out. He can tell she's desperate to communicate. She points to his cut and then makes the moves again trying to use both hands. It's like a game of charades and he's never been good at party games. She jabs at his cut again with more force this time and mimes the hair again. Chibs starts to feel something sink in.

"Another person in a cut?" he asks, she nods. "A brother with long hair? Big hair?"

She nods, looking excited. There's really only one other brother she'd spent any time with so Chibs takes a guess. "Bobby?" She nods.

"You want him? Where is he?" She nods again and then motions to her stomach, the universal sign for hungry. "Where is Bobby, because you're hungry?" She nods again, the small smile back.

"Aye, he's going to bring the food back here soon." She makes the OK sign and then motions down to her ribs. He takes this as a sign he can touch her. He uses gentle hands on her hips to direct her to sit on the bed and pulls over the only chair so he can comfortably press at her bruised ribs. He marks the spots where she winces or hisses in pain and goes back to them probing deeper.

"Nothing is broken, just bruised." He looks back to up to her face when he speaks and she nods again. He suddenly realizes how close they are. The knock at the door startles him but she doesn't move and he has to remind himself again that she can't hear. What seems like such a small thing in his world makes such a large difference in hers. There's another knock and Chibs jumps up to answer.

"Hey there — whoa, you could warn a man." Bobby holds the tray he's carrying up as though to shield his eyes and Chibs suddenly becomes very aware that she's sitting on the bed in nothing but jeans and a bra.

"Just about to wrap her ribs. She asked about yeh but I think it was more about the food." Chibs moves to let the burly biker into the room and a thought occurs to him. "How does she know your name?"

"Pen and paper, the original communication device." Bobby nods down to the tray and sure enough there is an old yellow pad and a TM branded pen sitting next to the plate of food. "I tried to get her to write but I think she's right handed so the no fingernails thing got in the way." Bobby's voice trails off into mumbles.

"Aye" Chibs watches as Bobby deposits the tray on the desk and then stops to stand directly in front of her waving his hand to make sure she's looking at his face before he speaks.

"I made you grilled cheese and tomato soup. There's also a muffin for desert, leftover from breakfast but it will do. I brought the pen and paper too just in case." She nods again. "You're going to stay here, in this room." Bobby points down towards the floor as though to emphasize this point. She nods again, stone-faced. "I stay across the hall. Chibs—" Bobby points back as he speaks, "he stays two doors to the left." Another pointing finger. She nods again. "If you need us, come knock." With that, Bobby turns to go clapping Chibs on the shoulder as he goes.

When the door clicks shut Chibs bends down to get the tape and an elastic wrap out of his med kit. She watches him and he can see recognition in those dark eyes. He doesn't miss the way her eyes cut to the food across the room as soon as he settles in front of her. He waves his hand to get her attention.

"Can eat as soon as I get yeh taped up. It'll hurt a bit." She nods again and takes a breath. He can tell she was aiming for deep when her face hitches up in pain. "Aye, it'll help with that." She makes another face as though to say _no shit._

He makes quick work of the wrap and then moves the tray to the bed so she can eat with her left hand while he works on her right. She practically inhales the food while he cleans and bandages her fingers. He finishes just as she's shoving the last of the muffin into her mouth, chewing with her eyes closed. He waits until she's staring at him again.

"Feel better?"

A nod.

"Here's two of the pills. Should keep yeh feeling good until the morning."

Another nod and an outstretched hand for the pills. He hands them over and she takes them with a sip of water from the tray. She presses her fingertips to her lips before pulling her hand away in an arc. The action is familiar but he can't place it.

"I'll leave yeh to it then." With that he leaves the room taking his med kit with him.

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 **Authors Note:**

 **The sign at the end of the chapter means "thank you" and is signed using a flat hand, palm facing the signer, arcing forward off the mouth or chin.**

 **The "universal sign for OK" mentioned here is referencing the hand sign where an "O" is made with the thumb and index finger with the remaining fingers raised and spread. This is not technically how you say OK in ASL but it is accepted by most people so it made sense in context.**

 **All reviews are welcome and highly appreciated!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N at end. Thanks to Robin D. for reviewing the last chapter. I hope you all enjoy this latest addition.**

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Bobby pulls another tray of muffins out of the oven and smiles to himself. Pumpkin, he'd made them specifically for SAMCRO's new house guest after Chibs mentioned the girl had practically inhaled the one from the night before. It had been a long year and baking was one of the only pleasures Bobby Elvis had left that made him feel like things are getting back to normal. He knows all signs point to things getting worse before they really get better but he's willing to take his peace where he can.

Clay had started shutting them out in Stockton right after Jax was shived by the Russians. They'd all watched while their President drifted across the yard to talk to the Mexicans and considering the dangerous look on Clay's face none of them had been surprised when he'd come back with promises of protection. There had been surprise though a week later when the news of their now expanded gun trade was shared. Then the news had gone quiet and stayed quiet, they were protected and things calmed down but Clay clammed up.

Bobby has been a Son for over half his life and he's seen what happens when a President holds it all in and locks out the brothers. He'd watched it happen with JT and sometimes he feels like they are still dealing with the repercussions of that mess. He knows Clay will never recognize it but sometimes Bobby feels like he can see the same fire in Jax's eyes he'd seen in his step-father's twenty years before. It scares him more than he'd like to admit. Clay isn't the type to back down and find a new family to keep him occupied the way JT had.

The sudden revelation that the new Cartel deal included muling coke did not sit well with Bobby and he was starting to feel an itch he hadn't experienced in years. The itch to escape, the desire to get away and find some time to center. This newest Cartel favor felt like the last straw last night in chapel. The way Clay had presented the facts as though there was no alternative, maybe there wasn't.

It had been the woman, a girl really, she couldn't be more than 30, that had changed Bobby's mind. Rushing out of church to find her looking so fierce while she stood over Miles had put Bobby's back up but then she'd started signing. He could tell she knew they didn't understand and the small trace of vulnerability that had floated through her eyes as she got more and more frustrated had locked him in. It really wasn't her fault Clay was being an ass.

Bobby had participated in over a hundred hospital visits and toy runs during his life in the MC and several of them had been to schools for the deaf and blind. It had taken him a moment to recognize the sign language outside of the school context but once he'd realized he knew what to do. All morning he'd been wracking his brain in an attempt to remember any old signs. Most of what he'd learned back in the day was kid related but he was pretty sure he remembered how to introduce himself and maybe a few basic words.

He looks down at the fresh muffins, now dumped out of their pan and onto a clean dish towel before glancing up at the clock over the stove. Ten a.m., probably time to have someone go check on the girl. Chibs said he'd given her a few pain killers, and Bobby has no doubt she needs to sleep, but at some point they're going to have to figure out what to do with her and no less important who she is. Juice had stayed up late trying to find her online by description but it wasn't much to go on and there was no new progress.

Bobby adds the newest batch of muffins to his already sizable pile and backs out the swinging kitchen door into the main clubhouse. Several of the guys are out on business but there are still a few brothers hanging about. He remembers Jax and Ope saying they were running up to the reservation to pick up a new stock of bullets but Chibs and Tig are playing pool while Juice fiddles with a laptop on a nearby couch. Piney is already at the bar, his tankard full of amber liquid and Bobby shakes his head. They're all due to start shifts at the garage in an hour so they'd best eat.

He's just gotten everyone's attention and is trying to dodge around grabbing hands to get the muffins onto the table before they're all gone when a noise from the back hallway draws his attention. She's standing in the hallway opening, JT's bike at her back, wrapped in the comforter from the dorm room bed. Her short hair is sticking straight off her head on one side like she'd slept on it wrong and he can just make out bare feet trying to tuck themselves into the folds of the dragging blanket.

"Who's the gash?" Piney grunts the words from the bar and Bobby is momentarily glad the girl is deaf.

"Ah, tha's our newest gift from the Cartel." Chibs speaks through a mouthful of muffin.

"They're giving us pussy now?" Piney is squinting at her and Bobby doesn't miss the way she returns the old man's stare with wide dark eyes.

"Not exactly brother, they want her protected while they figure out if she's worth anything to some rival group that set up in Lodi. Jax and Clay picked her and half a mil in protection cash up last night." Tig quickly summarizes the events of the night before and Piney just grunts before turning back to his tequila. Bobby can't blame the man, of them all Piney was the most upset about the Cartel situation. The old guard is nervous about the changes coming to the MC courtesy of Clay.

Deciding he's let her stand there looking confused long enough Bobby pushes away from the table and moves towards her trying to step slowly. She doesn't look scared but for some reason this is more disconcerting than the alternative. Shouldn't she be at least a little intimidated by a collection of armed bikers. He stops at the end of the bar and waves her forward. She doesn't move.

"Good morning. There are muffins if you're hungry." He motions back to the table where the quickly shrinking pile of baked goods sits. "Are you okay?" He tries for the OK hand signal as he talks and her big eyes track his hand. "Are you cold?" He motions shivering to try and get his point across. He feels like an idiot.

She shakes her head no and then surprises him by pulling the blanket open to reveal that she's only wearing a bra, panties, and the rib wrap underneath. The covers close around her body as quickly as they opened and she raises her eyebrows at him in question.

"You don't have any clothes?" He speaks clearly maintaining eye contact. She nods eagerly. "Right. Hold on." He holds up a finger to indicate one minute and turns back to the guys.

"What's the matter?" Chibs is looking at him closely as he walks back towards them.

"She needs clothes. Makes sense, there was blood on everything she was wearing last night." Bobby runs a hand down his face as he talks not sure where they're going to come up with clothes. They could call Gemma but with all the excitement last night there had been no discussion of how secret this new visitor is supposed to be.

"Ah, aye. Jackie boy keeps some shite for Tara in his room?" Chibs throws out the suggestion and Bobby nods along. "I'm sure the doc will understand." The kitchen timer interrupts the conversation and Bobby looks back to the kitchen torn.

"Think you can help her find something while I get that?" He smacks Tig's hand away from the last of the muffins as he speaks. "Leave some for the girl."

"What she's a little thing!" Tig's voice trails Bobby into the kitchen and despite the smell of new baked goods he can feel the weight of everything starting to sink down on to his shoulders. Mysterious naked kidnapped women in the clubhouse, drug running, and a very drunk Piney. They'd only been out of jail a week and things are definitely going to get worse before they get better.

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 **I know things may feel a little slow. There's some action coming soon. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are still looking forward to more. Reviews and feedback are always welcome.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Full A/N at the end. Thank you to KS, Robin D., and Sevenwise for reviews. Sevenwise, I did make a few changes here during editing as a response to your feedback. Thank you again.**

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It doesn't take Chibs long to find Tara's drawer in Jax's old room. Although the experience would have been more comfortable if the dark-haired woman hadn't just stood there behind him watching everything he did in that unnerving way. The entire situation is odd. Is she a prisoner or a guest or protectee? He doesn't really know the answer and everything with the lads is so splintered Chibs feels like his best option is to just take the whole thing moment by moment and see what happens.

The woman, for her part, seems completely at peace with her unexplained status. He'd expected more anxiety or at least the activity of the night before when he'd approached her from across the clubhouse floor but instead she'd just followed him confidently as he'd led her down the hall to Jax's door. He'd fumbled with his keys until he found the master one and pushed on the door, holding it open with a motion for her to go first. Then she'd stood quietly while he'd dug through the drawers finally coming up with a t-shirt and jeans that looked like they might fit. They were women's clothes at least. Now she is just standing there holding the clothes he'd held out looking at him expectantly.

"Will those work for yeh lass?" He nods towards the clothes as he speaks. She looks down at the worn jeans and nods. "Do yeh need something else?"

Her eyebrows go up and she tilts her head to the side as though she's trying to understand. Finally, she lifts her good hand and waves at him in a dismissive way and it hits him. She wants him to leave so she can put them on. It's such a contrast from her lack of embarrassment the night before that he's shocked for a moment. He spends a second trying to decide if leaving her alone is a good idea and figures she can't really get into much. Maybe he's underestimating her but still.

"Yea." He nods as he moves away. He closes the door behind him quickly and leans against the wood letting out a deep breath. He barely has time to let any lingering embarrassment or second thoughts sink in before the door is opening again and she's standing there in the clothes. The jeans are a little big and they seem to be barely hanging on to her thin hips but the tank top is a good fit and she waves a hand down her body as though to say _what do you think?_

"Looks good darlin'." He nods as he speaks. "I can take another look at the fingers and ribs after yeh eat." She nods and this time she leads the way, still barefoot out into the main clubhouse.

The rest of the boys have cleared out while they were in the back and Chibs leads her over to the table from earlier motioning towards a pile of fresh muffins from Bobby. She doesn't need any encouragement and he lets out a huffed laugh when she shoves the first one into her mouth whole, already palming a second. Girl is an eater.

Chibs figures no one is going to complain if he's a bit late to work because of club business, technically he's supposed to guarding or hosting, or something, so he settles himself down at the table across from her. Glancing around he wonders what they're going to do with her while they work. Can't really leave an unknown woman to her own devices in their criminal clubhouse all day. He reaches out absently to pick up one of the fresh muffins and pulls his hand back shocked at the sudden smack to his fingers.

"What the fuck!" He snaps his head to look at her and she's got a smug look on her face. She pushes a note he hadn't noticed across the table and Chibs recognizes Bobby's messy writing.

 _This batch is for you girl. Don_ _'t let anyone steal them. -Bobby_

"Oh, aye. Yeh've got a muffin supply then." Chibs shakes his head and slams the note back on the table. Clearly Bobby is fine being friendly with her.

She taps at his hand and when Chibs looks up she's miming writing and nodding towards the paper. He doesn't bother saying anything, just gets up and digs around behind the bar until he comes up with a pen and returns to the table holding it out to her. She takes it and clicks the top a few times before writing slowly under Bobby's messy scrawl, her bandaged fingers shaking a bit. She pushes it across the table to him and he looks up with a raised eyebrow before ducking his head to read.

 _What_ _'s your name?_

Her writing is clear but wobbly and he bets when she's not hurting she's got wonderful penmanship.

For a moment, he considers answering out loud but if she's setting the communication precedent he may as well follow her lead so he holds his hand out for the pen and she nods eagerly as she hands it over.

 _Chibs._

He pushes the note back and watches her read it. She holds her hand out for the pen and he passes it over watching as she writes. There's a long pause where she stares down at her own words before she slips both pen and paper back to him.

A _re you going to kill me?_

He lets out a breath and looks up to see her watching him closely those dark eyes bright and trying to take in as much of him as they can. He shakes his head and then picks up the pen.

 _No._

He underscores the word a few times before passing the paper back to her and watches as she reads it and then looks back up to his face. He maintains eye contact as she studies him and he's never felt so exposed in his life. Chibs feels like an agreement has been reached and she seems to feel the same way because she finally nods and shoves another muffin in her mouth. He doesn't know that he's ever had someone take his word about their life or death at face value like this before. He looks away trying to find something else in the room to keep his mind busy.

He's pulled back to her when she waves her hand to get his attention. She waits until he's looking at her and then mimes a smoking a cigarette with her eyebrows up in that way he's starting to learn means she's asking a question. The laugh that escapes him is involuntary.

"Oh, it's like that is it? Yeh know you're not getting offed so it's time for a fag?" She makes a face at the word fag and he wonders if lip reading gets harder with slang. She mimes the cigarette again and he nods. "Yea, come on lass. I've got yeh covered."

The air outside has an October chill and Chibs ends up draping his hoodie around her shoulders as they settle at one of the old picnic tables outside the clubhouse. He lights both the smokes at once to spare her bad fingers on the lighter and hands one over watching interested as she takes it and inhales deeply before leaning back to exhale. The long stretch of her neck is pale in the morning light and when she ducks her head back to study him with those dark eyes the word sexy springs to his mind unbidden. He's drifting into dangerous territory.

He pushes the thought away and lets his own fag hang from the corner of his mouth as he scrawls a question on the small legal pad he'd snagged on their way out the door.

 _What_ _'s your name?_

He pushes the pad to her.

 _River._

He stares down at the answer for a long moment and then shakes his head.

"Is that your name or your nickname? _"_ He says this last part out loud and she shakes her head, using the pen to underline the name with a few messy marks. "Sure, sure. But is that your real name? The Christian one?" She rolls her eyes and pulls the pad back towards her. She writes more this time and he waits patiently.

 _That_ _'s need to know information._

He snorts at the answer and looks up to see a small smile on her face, head tilted to the side. She drags on her cigarette with confidence and then looks back rolling her eyes again. He decides to take a different tack.

"What does this mean?" He mimics her movement from the night before with the palm out, tucked thumb, movement near his head and she smiles.

 _Bobby._

She tilts the pad so he can see the answer.

"Doesn't look complicated enough for a full name darlin'." He smiles at her look of indignation and watches as she writes an answer.

 _Friends get special signs for their names._

She tilts the pad towards him and he smiles.

"Oh, and Bobby is your friend?" He asks and he can tell that even without sound she can feel his sarcastic tone. She shrugs.

 _He seems nicer than the rest. Muffins._

He's never heard Bobby Elvis described as having nice but who is he to judge.

"What's my sign then?" He's teasing her now and he can tell she knows because she takes a deep drag on her cigarette before she moves. He watches as she bends her injured right hand into a C shape and draws it down her right cheek from her ear to the corner of her mouth. He grimaces and he knows it's a dig at him for the one he took at her but it still stings a bit. "Not very nice." His voice is heavy and he knows she can't hear it but she ducks her head to scribble on the pad.

 _I could have mimed getting stabbed. That_ _'s a Chib right? Knife._

He reads the note and wonders where she picked up this piece of slang. "Yeh're very confident for someone who was just worried about getting killed." She's writing again.

 _You said you wouldn_ _'t kill me. You wouldn't look as dangerous without them._

He reads the words and looks up in time for her to motion to his scars with her cigarette.

There's a sincerity in her eyes he doesn't get to see too often with the company he keeps. He wants to use the moment to ask her more questions but before he can reply he sees Tig waving to him wildly from the garage. Focusing on his brother in the distance Chibs realizes the other man is pointing towards the front of the lot. Turning his head Chibs takes in the police lights flashing just outside the fence. He doesn't know the lass' entire story but he knows she can't get caught here. She hasn't moved at the sound of sirens so when he grabs her hand and yanks her off the bench her eyes go wide in surprise.

He ignores her tugging and pulls her with him ducking down the side of the clubhouse away from the open lot towards the back of the building for cover. He tucks her up against the back of the building blocking her from view with this body. She's watching him intently and he scans for a hiding place. The ladder to the roof is probably the best bet. He uses his fingers to tilt her chin so she has to look at him as he talks slowly and quietly.

"The sheriff is out front." Her eyes widen in fear and he wonders what reason she has to fear the police. "I need yeh to get to the roof and stay low. They won't see yeh. Understand?" She nods. "Do yeh understand, really?" She nods again quickly and her hands are pushing at him moving him off her as she turns for the ladder to their left.

He watches her start to climb and he can hear the hitch in her breath as she pulls herself up. He knows those ribs are probably killing her. Ducking his head around the corner he can see Sheriff Roosevelt talking to Clay near the line of bikes and he ducks back around the corner just in time to not be seen. She's cleared the last rung and hoping she can stay low he steps back into front the building coming around the corner of the ring just in time to follow Roosevelt and half the fucking fire department into the building.

* * *

 **A/N: Name signs in the deaf community have a lot of unofficial rules. Generally you cannot give a name sign to yourself as it is similar to a nickname. Also, a name sign is usually meant to be specific to something unique about your personality. In this instance River has provided name signs to two characters much faster. This is me taking some liberty with the conventions for the purposes of the story.**

 **Also note, Chibs' name sign of the C sliding down the face is similar to the sign for cell phone or beginning of the word picture. In the word cell phone the hand forms a C and the fingertips touch the cheek, I imagined Chibs' sign being more the C facing the viewer and only the top index finger touching the face as it moves from ear to mouth.**

 **I hope you enjoyed the chapter. If you have the time please reviews. I'm editing when I can in between epic hours at the office and reviews definitely help!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Full A/N at the end. I want to thank Samantha Renk, KS, Robin D., Guest, and Hannah (glad to be back!) for the reviews. You guys made me smile! Also, a shout-out to Laurleo, my amazing beta for the pre-read.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

It takes 45 minutes for the damn law enforcement invasion to pull out of the lot and they leave a destroyed clubhouse and 15 code violations in their wake. As soon as they're gone Clay drops the bomb about Jax and Ope being held hostage on the boys. As a result it's Phil who is sent to get River off the roof and bring her back to the clubhouse. By the time Chibs gets back from the slightly unnecessary rescue mission it's died down enough in the main room for him to duck back to the dorms. It's been 3 hours and he feels terrible.

His brain is mush, between Romeo Parada showing up personally to save two brothers and Jackie-boy's engagement announcement Chibs is wondering if things will ever slow down. The Cartel in particular had his back up. Chibs has been a participant in large scale organized crime for almost his entire life and for a boss of Parada's importance to show up to protect a business partner seemed off. It was made more so by the _"more repayment for our recent favor"_ Chibs had heard Luis whisper to Clay.

Chibs stops outside the unmarked door and takes a deep breath. Speaking of said favor, the woman is still a mystery. River is clearly not her given name but then again Chibs isn't his given name. He knows he should share the information with the club and see if Juice can pull up anything on her but part of him feels wrong about it all. She doesn't seem afraid of them, just curious, and it makes him uncomfortable.

Clay had told the club this was a protection detail for the Cartel but not protection from whom or why. Considering Clay's recent history of withholding key information Chibs is feeling less than generous with the president. He knows it's a very thin line but he backed the vote in chapel to keep them all safe and he's willing to follow his gut now to do the same. He needs her to trust him with more information. Settling on needing to check her injuries again as a way to buy time he raises his hand to knock before he realizes she won't be able to hear the sound.

Taking his chances, he tries the knob and finds the door unlocked. The lights are off but there's enough late afternoon sun coming through the high set window to put the room into twilight. She's in the narrow bed curled up under the covers and he stands there for a moment taking in how soft she looks and trying to figure out how to wake her up without scaring the shit out of her. He settles on shaking the bed, leaning on the foot-board to rock the mattress until she stirs.

She sits up slowly, blinking in the light to make him out. Her short hair is standing up in messy spikes and she rubs a hand through it which only serves to make it worse. She looks vulnerable and tired and he feels something protective coil up inside him. Her eyes focus on something behind him and go wide.

"Great minds, eh?" Clay is leaning in the doorway to the room and Chibs reaches out to flick on the overhead light sending the room out of twilight and into harsh relief.

"Wanted to make sure she made it down from the roof and hadn't given the prospect any trouble." It wasn't entirely a lie but Chibs knows it's not a whole truth.

"That was quick thinking. Getting her up there I mean." Clay is staring at her over his shoulder and Chibs resists the desire to shift so she's blocked from view. "Have you figured out anything about her? Tig said you two were passing notes earlier." Clay is staring at him expectantly and with the direct question Chibs has no excuse not to tell him everything.

"Girl says her name is River. Didn't get any more than that. It's hard with the whole not speaking thing." Chibs shoves his hands in his pockets and leans back on his heels.

"I bet. Helen Keller shit, I never thought I'd have to deal with this. I mentioned it to Luis this afternoon, they had no idea. Said they are going to try and find an interpreter to send around, would take a few days." Clay rubs at his chin as he talks. "Does she seem to like you? You looking to get a piece before we hand her back?"

"Dunno." Chibs is careful to keep eye contact with the president when he talks, this conversation suddenly feels dangerous and he can't figure out why. "She seems to like me a'ight. Likes Bobby too."

"We can't keep her here anymore. Bobby can't take her to his, in case his PO stops by. I was thinking maybe we could stash her at your place?" Clay is studying him carefully and Chibs nods along with the logic of this. There are only a few sons who don't have the risk of a surprise parole visit hanging over their residences.

"Aye, I can do that. Sneak her out while the rest are celebratin'?" Clay nods and his smile is back. Chibs feels his shoulders relax.

"Yea, you do that. No one is going to judge you if you get yourself a treat brother." With that Clay leans forward with a knowing look to put a heavy palm on Chibs' shoulder before turning to drift back out into the main room.

As soon as the older man is gone Chibs spins on his heel to face the bed. River is sitting up all the way and she's got a look on her face he hasn't seen yet. She raises an eyebrow at him and he shrugs not sure how to explain what just happened. She nods towards the door and makes another new face although this one he can easily place as disgust. He reaches back to close the door and settles into the chair by the bed so they're eye to eye.

"I came to check your ribs but it looks like we're going on a trip instead." Her eyebrows go up again and he knows she's asking a silent question. "My place." She nods slowly and he gets the impression she's not sure about this new idea. His eyes scan the room and he finds the pad and pen from the night before. He holds them out to her and waits as she writes.

 _Going to get yourself a treat?_

He blows out as he reads and looks up to see her dark eyes squinted at him, eyebrows up in question.

"Yeh got that huh? Better at lip reading than you let on aren't yeh." It's a fact worth remembering. She starts to write.

 _Occupational necessity._

"What occupation's that lass?" She shakes her head before he even finishes speaking and is writing, he watches as the words form but doesn't let her finish "Need to know... yea I get it. Why?" She flips the page and starts again.

 _Don_ _'t want to make it harder for you to keep your word._

He doesn't have to think hard to know she means about killing her. He'd said no earlier and she's not a dumb woman. He nods.

"Aye, I suppose I get that. Come on, I've got to sneak yeh out. There's old ladies about. Can yeh ride a bike?" He knows he's confused her from the look on her face but she just nods and he hopes she means, yes, she can ride.

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Clay drifts back out to the main room of the clubhouse trying to blend in like he'd never been missing. He takes in the room, his eyes landing on Jax and Tara by the pool table playing doubles with Opie and Lyla. Tara had done well earlier, pulling that good news about their engagement out of her ass. It had broken the tension in a way Clay hadn't been expecting. Still, it was going to take weeks to get the clubhouse back into shape after the Sheriff's axe-happy visit.

Overall, the president really isn't sure how he feels about the engagement news. He wants Jax to find happiness, he really does, but he's nervous about the younger man's commitment. Wanting out for a distant one-day is different than not having your head in the game now.

He scans the room again and gives a friendly nod to Tig over the back of a croweater. The Sergeant at Arms is a simple man at least. Most of them are Clay thinks, taking count and finding most of his brothers already engaged by the ladies who service the club. This is why he'd made the Cartel deal in the first place to keep these men whole and able to come home to pussy. Sure, he'd kept a few things close to his chest but the end justified the means and here he was looking out over a room full of mostly content soon to be very rich men.

A hand slides up his back and Clay smiles as Gemma slinks an arm around his waist.

"Where you been baby?" His old lady's voice is thick with drink and Clay smiles at her.

"Had to take care of something in the back." He pauses for a moment trying to decide how much more to say and settles on enough of the truth to get his Gemma's help. Bobby had said the girl was without clothes. "We've got a guest courtesy of the Cartel." He feels her stiffen and then relax.

"That so?" Her voice has an edge to it and Clay wonders if this news might be enough to get her off the trail of those fucking letters she'd mentioned recently. The last thing he needs is her stirring up shit and adding more drama to his already full plate. He doesn't know what JT wrote to that Irish gash and he'd rather not find out.

"Yep. Holding on to a pretty little package. Might need your help finding her clothes. The Scot is taking her back to his place to avoid our friendly neighborhood Sheriff." Clay drags the words out hoping Gemma will get hung up on the idea of having a chance to help the club.

"She can have these clothes as long as you help me take them off soon." The teasing note in her voice lets him know he's succeeded this time. Her hand slides into his back pocket and he tucks his chin in to give her a wolfish smile.

"I think we can make that work." He spares one last glance for the room making sure everyone looks engaged and then lets his hot wife lead him down the hall towards distraction.

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 **Again, thank you to everyone who reviews. I've been having a rough couple weeks and checking my email to see a review has been an amazing pick me up. I hope you're all liking the story so far.**

 **We're going to learn a lot more about River soon.**

 **All reviews are welcome and appreciated. Until next time.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Full A/N at the end. Thanks to BlackBatLicorice, beth626, and Robin.D for the reviews on the last chapter. This is the first chapter where we get to hear from River. No beta this week, so all mistakes are mine. Enjoy.**

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River follows Chibs down the dark back hallway. She's grateful for the way he's gripping her hand pulling her along but she can't help the way she keeps looking back to see if they're being followed. His shoulders are tense and his fingers are tight on her hand and she doesn't have enough context to suss out exactly what is going on. It's all been too much recently to worry about more than the next few minutes at a time. It doesn't help that every tug of his hand pulls at her bruised ribs, putting her even more on edge.

They go through a door at the end of the hall and suddenly they're outside. River takes a breath of cool air and she's glad that she's still wrapped in the sweatshirt he'd dropped over her shoulders earlier that day. The thick material swamps her smaller form and she tugs her hand from his to pull the too-big jeans further up her hips. She needs to gain weight. That damn grilled cheese was the first real meal she'd had in days and she still hasn't had anything today except the muffins.

Now that they're outside Chibs seems to be trying to decide the next move and he turns to look at her. She can tell he's talking, she can see the movement of his head but it's too dark behind the building for her to make out his lips. She steps to the side hoping to catch the last of the fading sun but he reaches out to catch her wrist again pulling her into him.

Deaf since birth, River is used to the world not being made for people like her. Normally she has a series of adaptations at her disposal to make living in a hearing world easier but she hasn't been living normal for a while now. At this point she's just happy this set of captors picked up on her lack of hearing and are making an effort. Or, some of them are. She hadn't appreciated the way Chibs had turned his back on her to talk to the white-haired man but baby steps.

Chibs seems to have finally realized the problem and his hand is hot on her wrist as he pulls her around the building to the lit overhang where they'd smoked earlier. Now that they're in the light he turns to her and she takes in his concerned looking eyes before looking down to focus on his lips.

"Do you…bike?… Understand?" She knows she's missed some words but the light still isn't great and he's moving his head as he talks scanning the lot behind them. She shakes her head at him. A bike? She knows he means the motorcycle but she's not sure what he wants. He makes a frustrated face and tries again but it's worse. Losing patience, she reaches out to grab his beard forcing him to focus.

"Do you know how to ride a bike?" The words finally come clear and she releases him shaking her head no. She's never been on a motorcycle but it can't be that hard, right? She can tell she's wrong from the exasperated look on his face. He's mumbling and she can't get a read on him but she's pretty sure she sees him say her name. She reaches up to rub a hand through her hair feeling a little embarrassed. She misses her long hair. The train of thought is interrupted by his waving hand.

"Just hold on and lean when I lean." She nods, there's really not anything else to do. She'd love to sign back that she's not sure what she's supposed to hold on to or ask where her helmet is or get more information on where they're going but it's not worth the effort when he won't understand. The nod seems to be enough for Chibs though and she's just too tired to care. He takes another look around the lot before leading her towards a line of bikes.

He stops in front of one three from the end and River takes in the black and chrome machine. She waits while he bends to dig something out of one of the side mounted bags. He holds out a helmet and when she doesn't immediately take it from him he puts it on her head and fastens the strap under her chin for her. While he's close he chews on the inside of his cheek and she recognizes a sure sign he's about to speak.

"Good fit?" She's confused until one of his hands taps the top of the helmet testing for movement. It fits well. She nods for him and he gives her a small smile. This close, it's hard to miss the way his smile deepens the scars running across his cheeks, sinking into the natural dimples that frame his mouth. River feels bad for picking on his scars earlier and for a moment she tries to figure out how she could apologize but the time is gone when he swings his leg over the bike and holds out a hand to her.

She lets him guide her onto the bike and pull her close against his back. She feels like a rag doll completely at his mercy as he pulls her tight, wrapping her arms around his chest and reaching down to put her feet on the pegs. She's glad she managed to get enough blood off her boots to make them comfortable enough to wear again. Once he's got her situated the way he wants he holds up the OK sign and waits until she gives it back before he shifts.

The feeling of the bike coming to life is shocking. The rumble under her is wild and River knows the machine must be loud for those that can hear it. One of his hands comes up to rest over her interlocked fingers on his chest and like this is the last check he needed, the machine springs forward.

Riding is fun. It is probably the most fun she's had in months and it doesn't hurt that the further they get from the building that smells like gasoline and cigarettes the safer she feels. Chibs is a warm body in front of her and with the way she's perched behind him on the bike she's hyper aware of the way her legs are spread to fit around his wider hips. She can feel the muscles in his stomach twitch under her hands as he leans into every turn and she does her best to lean with him. It's almost like freedom.

It feels like no time at all before the bike is slowing and they take the last turn on to a residential street. They pull up to a small ranch style house and River is surprised by how normal it looks. She'd expected something a bit more sinister from the dangerous looking biker in front of her. Chibs pulls the bike into a clean garage and River realizes he must have a remote mounted on the bike somewhere as the door closes automatically behind them.

The rumble from the bike ends and he turns still straddling the seat to motion for her to dismount. She ends up standing awkwardly not sure what to do next as he climbs off. She tries to cover the moment by tugging off the helmet and handing it to him to put away. He seems tense again and she wonders if this is just his house. He doesn't seem like a man to go home to his wife at the end of the day but maybe they're about to walk in on some quiet family scene.

Her fears prove unfounded as he leads her into the dark house flipping on lights as he goes. It's a nice house really, although a little small. They go through a laundry room off the garage, down a short hallway and into an open plan living room and kitchen. The entire place is clean, almost unlived in, and River realizes he doesn't come here often. This place is probably his hideaway and now she's here invading his space. It all feels weirdly personal.

He leads her into the kitchen and in the bright light of the room he looks tired. He starts digging through a drawer and she takes the time to look around. River takes in the white cabinets and completely clean counter tops. The only decoration a red ceramic utensil container that holds a collection of cooking implements and a wooden knife block. There's a cut out in the kitchen wall that overlooks the living room and she notices the flat screen mounted over the fireplace. There's a gray couch and an old red recliner situated in front of the TV. One long wall is lined with bookshelves full of a mix of paperbacks, hardcovers, and she's surprised to see an old set of encyclopedias.

She's just trying to read a few titles, noticing many of them are thrillers and mystery novels, when a notepad is waved in her face. She takes the pad and snorts at the strip club logo at the top of the page looking up at him with a raised brow. He looks confused so she points at the logo. He rolls his eyes and jabs a finger at the messily scrawled writing, holding out a pen for her to reply.

 _Are you hungry?_

She's starving. She nods and then bends over the counter to reply.

 _Are there cheeseburgers?_

He looks at her reply and then back up at her. For a second she thinks he's confused but then he smiles and she can't help the answering smile when his dimples make an appearance through the scars. He digs back through the drawer and holds out a crumpled take out menu. He taps the pad and she understands he wants her to write down her order.

Everything on the menu sounds incredible and she ends up writing him a rather substantial list. To his credit he doesn't even react instead stepping away to pull out what she recognizes as a burner phone to place the order. He hangs up and gives her the OK signal before grabbing the pen.

 _Twenty minutes. Do you want to watch tv?_

As soon as he writes it he starts to scratch it out but she reaches out to put her hand over his to still the pen. He looks up at her surprised and she can tell he thinks he's done something stupid. No one has offered her something as comfortable as TV in a long time. She takes the pen.

 _I can watch tv, closed captions. Can you check my ribs?_

He nods and leads her over to the couch he hands her a mess of remotes and his mouth forms the word "Juice" followed by "I dunno". He motions to her ribs and she tugs off the sweater to reveal the borrowed tank top. She hesitates on the tank top. She'd pulled it off without shame the night before but for some reason it feels different this time, alone in his house. She can still remember the way it feels to have her legs and arms wrapped around him on the bike and it seems like something has shifted. The pain in her side has been steadily growing though and she's worried something got worse during her excursion to the roof.

She looks at him through her lashes and he's looking away from her trying to find anything else to focus on. His eyes dart down to her fingers twisted up in the hem of the fabric and then away again. She finally lets out a little involuntary sigh and she sees his shoulders jump at the small noise. He turns back to her fully with his eyebrows raised and nods towards her throat.

"You can talk... Or noise?" She catches enough of his mumbled question to understand and nods, the shirt forgotten she reaches for the notepad again. It's a common misconception that the deaf are by default mute. She can't hear herself which makes things more difficult but she can feel the vibrations in her throat and she's capable of laughs and sighs, and screams. Technically she knows how to talk although it's rare and when she does it always feels like she's stretching a very tired muscle. It doesn't help that without being able to hear herself so she's not always sure she gets the words right. She takes a beat to figure out how to write it out for him before putting pen to paper.

 _I can make noise. My vocal chords aren_ _'t missing just underused._

He raises an eyebrow at that and chews on the inside of his cheek.

"So why not talk?" She's been asked the question before both out of curiosity and cruelty but Chibs seems genuinely curious so she bends over the paper again.

 _It_ _'s hard to learn when you can't hear. I talk with my hands. Why don't you sign._

He reads the words as she writes and when she finishes he laughs and she catches the word "cheeky" rolling off his lips as he shakes his head. The tension in the room loosens a bit.

"Come on, lass. I need to check your ribs." He turns back and faces her as he speaks and she nods putting her fingers down to the hem of the shirt again. It's now or never.

She tugs the fabric over her head and instantly feels gooseflesh spring up across her stomach from the air conditioning. She's not cold for long though because he seems to have taken a no time like the present attitude and his hot hands are already carefully unwrapping the elastic bandage and tape, knuckles brushing against her skin with every move.

"You're too thin…" The rest of his statement lost in space as he ducks his head to take a closer look. Calloused fingertips brush lightly against the bruises and now that the tape is gone she realizes how much it had been helping. It feels far more tender than the night before.

He hits a particularly painful spot and she lets out a little gasp and squeak. She can feel the audible sound leave her throat and she can see when he hears it from the way his shoulders tighten and the hands pull back. He looks up at her and there's something in his eyes for just a moment that almost looks like lust then he reigns it back and concern blooms. She is glad he gets it under control because she's not sure she can handle a horny biker on top of everything else.

"Sorry. Looks good, still don't think anything is broken. I'll wrap you back up." He speaks slowly and she can tell the goal is that she understand every word. She notices that his eyes are the color of dark honey and he looks concerned for her in a way that probably wouldn't be appreciated by his brothers. She wonders if this is a shift caused by their new location or recent events.

When he reaches for the tape she reaches for the remotes, pressing buttons randomly until the TV flashes into life. Anything to distract from the feeling of him touching her. This is the man who is helping to hold her captive. Although he'd promised not to kill her. She rubs a hand up the back of her shorn hair, what's happened to her life that makes not killing her feel like actual caring. It's going to take years of therapy to come back from this.

The next few hours pass quickly. River figures out the closed caption setting on the tv and settles back with a terrible action movie. The food arrives and she manages to down two cheeseburgers with fries, onion rings, and most of a large coke. They don't pass anymore notes and Chibs seems content to let her sit on one side of the couch while he takes the other.

When the movie is over, he produces two more of the oblong white pain pills and she downs them with the last of her soda before he leads her to a door off the main room. He motions towards the king size bed and she looks up at him trying to silently ask where he's going to sleep. He picks up on the question faster than she thought he would and nods back to the couch.

"The spare rooms aren't set up or anything. I've got to guard anyways." It's a thin excuse for kindness but she lets him have it and takes the bed. She doesn't miss the way he leaves the door cracked or the glass of water he puts on the nightstand before he turns to go. The bed is comfortable, very comfortable and she's asleep in minutes.

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 **So a little more deaf culture and some character development. Sorry the update was a little late this week.**

 **Hope you enjoyed. All reviews are welcome!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you to ks, Robin.D, nanarosedarkness, Samantha Renk, Emmalock9, and BlackBatLicorice for the reviews on chapter 7. I'm sorry the update was delayed this week, I had some medical stuff going on that sucked up all my spare time. This is a short one but I'm aiming to post another soon. Enjoy.**

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It's early the next afternoon and Chibs has been trying all day to get information out of River with little to no luck. He'd woken that morning to a call from Jax with questions about where they'd disappeared to. Jackie-boy wasn't happy with Clay pushing River out of the clubhouse and into Chibs' home but by the time they'd ended the call Chibs had gotten him to admit the logic of the shift in locations. Jax also passed on a gentle reminder that the sooner they find out who she is the sooner they can put the entire Cartel favor behind them.

So, like a good club man Chibs woke River, again by shaking the bed, he made her breakfast and watched her flip through channels on the muted TV until she got bored. He'd tried getting her to write with him again on the notepad from the night before but she'd pushed it away with only the words _fingers hurt_ scrawled across the page.

They'd spent a few minutes having a silent fight over him re-bandaging the injured digits, a fight which he'd won. She'd sat still through the ordeal and after he'd rubbed in more of the numbing antiseptic ointment she'd again made the gesture with her hand arcing forward off her chin. His curiosity got the better of him and he'd asked her to interpret. Now, here they were two hours later, sitting on his couch with the TV forgotten while she teaches him signs.

"Okay, okay. How do yeh sign motorcycle?"

He laughs at her reply, watching as she holds both hands out in front of her like she's gripping handlebars before twisting one to mimic cranking a throttle. He's been asking aloud for words and watching as she moves slowly waiting for him to mimic. So far, they'd covered thank you, where is (insert name), hurt, hungry, bathroom, among other key phrases and were finally moving on to some fun words.

"Not a subtle language, is it?" She rolls her eyes at the question and flops back onto the cushion behind her dramatically.

He's gotten used to these silent displays of drama and her bold facial expressions. The stoic shielded eyes and face she'd worn the night before at the clubhouse seem to be wearing off and Chibs is starting to suspect that she compensates for her lack of voice by being overly expressive in other ways. He already knows that raised eyebrows indicate a question although he's usually left on his own to figure out what the question is. She rolls her eyes a lot and quirks this little half smile that practically screams _you_ _'re an idiot_.

It feels a little odd to be basically bonding with what is essentially a prisoner of the club but he's been excused from work and other business to deal with her. He'd feel weird about locking her in a room considering so he's not sure what else to do. It helps that she's an interesting mystery. She seems to shift from confident to comfortable to uncaring with rapid agility. He can't figure out if the emotions are genuine or if she's an impressive actress but she certainly has him curious.

She taps his arm to get his attention and her eyebrows are raised, head cocked to the side. He realizes what she wants and mimes the sign for motorcycle back to her. She rewards him with a smile and then makes a new sign, hooking the first two fingers of her right hand around the thumb of the left, with left fingers flat in front and then jumps both hands towards him.

"What?" She makes the move again and then follows it with the motorcycle sign. He raises an eyebrow and she grabs the pad to write.

 _Ride. Ride motorcycle._

He laughs and mimics her again. He's done something wrong though because she makes a frustrated noise in the back of her throat and shakes her head before reaching out to correct finger placement. He tries again and she shrugs with squinted eyes. He'd learned this means _good enough_ earlier that morning when she'd tasted his attempt at scrambled eggs.

He's just about to try again when there's a knock on the door. He's on his feet instantly, the gun from his back holster in his hand, safety off. He's already taking a step towards the door when she makes a strangled sound from behind him. He turns to find her wide eyed in fear on the couch, looking up at him and he spares a moment to notice how they keep flicking from the gun to his face. It's first indication of fear he's seen from her and he realizes she didn't hear the sound from the door.

There's another knock and he doesn't have time to consider how it must seem to her. One minute they're having a grand time on the couch and the next he's holding a loaded weapon looking tense. He nods down the hall towards the door and it seems to be enough because she jumps off the couch, one hand tugging at the too big jeans she's wearing and with grace he didn't know she had she dances around him into the master bedroom.

Chibs pads down the hall sideways to present a smaller target. Peering out through the peephole he sees Gemma standing on his front steps and feels himself relax. Tucking the gun away he pulls the door open with a smile.

"Hey Scotty," Gemma doesn't wait for an invitation before she pushes into the house, "Clay asked me to bring by some clothes for our little Mexican friend." She's holding out a set of shopping bags to him and Chibs takes them leading her deeper into the house. "Where is she?" Gemma looks around his living room as she speaks.

"I'll get her. Clay didn't mention yeh'd be stopping by so I had the lass hide." Gemma nods and Chibs moves past her into the master bedroom.

He's surprised by the sight inside the room. River is crouched in the corner of the bedroom closest to the bay windows. She's opened one of the sliding glass panes and she's got the bat he keeps tucked under the bed held defensively. Smart lass, a way out and a weapon. Her big eyes search him as he moves towards her and she seems to notice he's relaxed because she drops the bat and stands.

"It's a friend." She nods. "Come on, she brought yeh new clothes." He's not sure if it's the she or clothes but her eyes light up and she follows him willingly into the next room.

Gemma has made herself comfortable and she's sitting on the couch with the shopping bags. Chibs watches as the SAMCRO mother looks River over with a keen eye.

"Someone did a number on her hair. Jesus." He looks back in time to see River run a hand over her short locks, her injured right hand wrapped tight around her middle. She looks embarrassed.

"What do yeh mean?" He turns back to Gemma on the question.

"Someone did a hack job on her hair, look it's all uneven. Done with a knife." He turns back to River and takes a closer look at the short hair. He'd noticed it sure but he'd been focused on other things recently. Now that Gemma has called attention to it he can see she's right and he feels his chest tighten. From long ago an old fact surfaces in his mind. Ritual hair cutting is an old punishment of the Cartel.

"Dunno," he replies to Gemma. "I'd ask her but the communication is a bit tricky." Gemma raises and eyebrow at that and he feels River step around him so his back is no longer to her. He realizes she's probably only been able to see half the conversation.

"Cat got your tongue?" Gemma directs the words at River and Chibs winces as the younger woman stiffens and then points to her ear with the shake of a head. "What's that then?" Gemma is looking at him expectantly and he shrugs.

"She's deaf. She'll write a bit but the bast—" he cuts himself off remembering the Cartel are supposed to be SAMCRO partners in this story, "Luis pulled out a few of her fingernails trying to get her to talk. Don't think they knew she couldn't." Gemma hisses in sympathy. Then she surprises Chibs by jumping off the couch and walking over to put her hands-on River's shoulders.

"Deaf, tortured, and stuck wearing those skank doctor's clothes. That's a rough couple days baby. I brought you some clothes that should actually fit. I'm Gemma." Chibs watches stunned as with the announcement of her name Gemma twists her fingers into a series of signs. River's face relaxes and she watches Gemma's fingers hungrily.

"Oh, and does everyone in the fucking clubhouse know sign language but me?" Gemma laughs at his outburst.

"Don't worry Scotty, I only know how to spell my name and even that is left over from the same charity runs as Bobby." Gemma turns back to River. "You can read lips, right?" River nods. "It's amazing you can read his lips with that fucking accent." He sees River's eyebrows go up over Gemma's shoulder and the younger woman pushes away grabbing for the notepad on the coffee table.

 _You have an accent?_

His booming laugh fills the small house as he reads and he can't help ignoring River's still raised eyebrows and questioning face to show the paper to Gemma. Gemma just gives him a sharp look and puts an arm around River's shoulders.

"Don't worry baby, we'll get you cleaned up, into some new clothes, and I'll explain." He watches as Gemma leads River off into his bedroom shopping bags thrown over one shoulder before he sinks on to the couch.

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 **Reviews are always welcome. They really do make a difference.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks to ks, Otherworlder81, Lady Ramona, nanarosedarkness, Robin.D, Angel897, and Momoftwins1970 for the reviews. Also a big thinks to everyone who has followed and favorited. You are all amazing. Enjoy.**

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It's Friday morning and River has been at Chibs' house for three days. She's in the kitchen making breakfast. The matter of her getting to use knives had been settled the previous morning when she'd refused to eat another plate of runny eggs courtesy of the Scot. The Scot, that part still feels weird. She had seen others have the word on their lips when referring to Chibs but she'd assumed it was just another nickname.

Chibs' accent wasn't the only revelation Gemma brought along with her shopping bags two days before. River can still see Gemma's wide eyes watching her when she'd pulled her shirt over her head to try on the new tops. River knows she's too thin. It's not like the Cartel feeds well and while she refuses to look at herself in the mirror, sure she'll hate what she sees, she hadn't been ready for the pity in Gemma's eyes. The older woman had stayed long enough to make sure everything was okay and the clothes fit before she dipped out post a back-turned conversation with Chibs. River hadn't been able to pick up anything but she'd gotten the impression the woman was worried about her.

She glances through the kitchen passthrough to look at Chibs. He's sprawled out on the couch watching TV, some weird documentary with the captions on, tugging on his beard with an even rhythm. He looks bored. He's been stuck here with her, only the occasional visitor to pass the time for days. River appreciates his desire to learn a few signs and the gentle considerate way he seems to handle her. Kindness has been in short supply for her recently.

Spending the time in the quiet house has been almost nice. They'd spent the time mostly watching bad movies and passing the occasional note. Bobby stopped by the day before with more groceries and stayed for a cigarette and a quick conversation. A few other men in leather had come and gone over the days and every time she'd gone off to the bedroom to give them time to talk. Mostly River spent the bulk of her stay watching Chibs as he went about his business. It had been boring but informative and she is starting to learn his moods. Usually the man is quick with a laugh but he's been tense all morning and River isn't sure what to make of it.

She knows people. Being deaf makes people watching a way of life and even after three and a half days she can read Chibs pretty well. He's honestly a bit of an easy mark with those soft brown eyes and a number of tells. She knows his shoulders come up when he's anxious, she knows he chews on his cheek when he's tongue tied, she knows he tugs at his beard when he's thinking, she knows he's loud and open when he's amused, and he pinches the bridge of his nose when he's mad.

She can tell he's tense she just doesn't know why yet. Context is important with body language and she's been floating along without it for a long time, 84 days to be exact. Eighty-four days since she was taken and now she's on captor number 3. At this point trying to work through the series of events that got her to this kitchen making scrambled eggs would be like playing a very long game of telephone. She knows how this all started but there were pieces lost in translation along the way and River has no idea why she is currently being held by a group of bikers. She has a feeling Chibs doesn't know why she's here either, not really.

She whisks the eggs bringing them to a froth before pouring the yellow liquid into a preheated frying pan. Her mind drifts back to the night at the warehouse as she pushes the eggs around making little ridges in the bottom of the pan. She'd been at the Lobos Sonora warehouse in Lodi for two days when the Galindo soldiers stormed the building and made a bloodbath out of the distribution floor. Luis had found her in the office and he'd shot the Lobos Sonora underboss who'd been watching her. Luis lied to the Sons that night though.

She'd managed to catch just enough of what he said via the mirror as he talked to them in the bathroom to know that they'd been asked to keep an eye on her, keep her safe while he figured out her value. He hadn't tortured her though, that had been the Lobos Sonora guards the night before when they'd caught her trying to use a phone. The fingernails had been an asinine attempt to prevent texting.

If anything, Luis had been almost gentle. She'd already been tied to the chair and he'd carried her on it into the bathroom. He'd given her water and tried to talk to her but she'd ignored him, not able to sign with bound hands and not willing to waste her energy on someone wouldn't know what she was saying anyways. Then he'd looked her right in the face and said the words that had sent a chill down her spine, "Don't worry Sofia, two more weeks."

The fear inspired by the use of her real name had been enough to keep her wide eyed and terrified until he'd returned an hour later with the two bikers. She'd pulled herself together but it was still enough to send a chill down her spine standing in the sun filled kitchen cooking eggs. Two more weeks, that's fourteen days and it's day 4 since she joined the bikers. Eleven days to figure out what is coming and either find a way out or find a way home. Home, the idea of going home makes her eyes water and she uses skill developed over the last 84 days to push the thoughts down and away. There's not room for doubt or fear here, she's played it calm this far. She just has to keep it up.

The eggs are done and she splits them between the two plates with toast and bacon before carrying the breakfast into the living room. Chibs doesn't have a dining room table, she'd actually been amused to find out the sizable dining room off the kitchen was currently storage for a de-constructed bike he was working on.

He sits up when she puts the plates on the coffee table and smiles at her. She smiles back quickly and turns to focus on eating. God, she loves how much he feeds her. Chibs was by the far the nicest jail-keeper she's had and she wonders if this is just the beginnings of Stockholm Syndrome finally setting in. Seems unlikely though. While Chibs has kept her in his house and away from the only burner phone available he hasn't exactly done it by force. In fact, she'd found two guns loaded and ready to go the night before. One in the nightstand the other taped behind the painting next to the bedroom door. If she wanted to leave she probably could have. She shoves a piece of toast in her mouth, too hungry for manners.

It's the fear that's kept her stuck. The type of fear that is so deep and ingrained it feels like it's become a part of her. River learned young to fake it until you make it though and she's pulled on strength she didn't know she had to keep herself upright for this long. She has no idea what waits her outside her current situation and the idea of escaping comfortable captivity only to find her life forfeit from another enemy has her paralyzed. She chews as she thinks and cuts her eyes over to Chibs. He's watching her eat with the same morbid fascination she's caught every time they sit down to a meal. She reaches for the pad and pen.

 _What?_

He smiles and takes the pen, writing back. His bacon covered fingers leaving a grease stain on the paper.

 _You eat like a shopvac. Have no idea where it all goes._

She laughs, really laughs and she can tell the sound has surprised him because it takes a moment before he joins in. Her emotions are on a fucking roller coaster. She grabs the pen.

 _I feel like I_ _'ve had more food in the last 3 days than in the last 2 months combined._

The words give away a details of her story she hadn't planned to share but it's done now. She watches him read and he looks up at her with a question in his eyes breakfast forgotten. He grabs the pen.

 _Lobos Sonora doesn_ _'t take care of its people?_

She knows what he's really asking and she eats her second slice of toast while she figures out how she wants to answer. She picks up the pen and uses his own sentence.

 _Lobos Sonora doesn_ _'t take care of its_ _people_ _prisoners_

"Aye" He's watching her carefully but after a moment he turns back to his food and pops another slice of bacon in his mouth. She likes the way he lets this piece of news click into place without any drama but she can practically see the wheels turning through his skull. She's a mystery to him and if his book selection is anything go to by, Chibs likes a mystery. No wonder the man is tense.

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 **Reviews are always very welcome and motivating. More is coming very soon! Thank you!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N at the end. Thanks to Robin.D, ks, Angel897, and guest. To Robin.D, Chibs and the club do not know for sure that River wasn't working for Lobos. They're learning. :) To everyone else, your reviews made my week. Thank you for reading. Enjoy.**

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Gemma can't stop thinking about the too thin woman staying at Chibs' place. She's been trying to push away the maternal thoughts for the last two days to no avail. Gemma knows she has a reputation as a hard woman but she's been through some shit in the last two years and now with her boys home and Clay promising her a rich retirement she feels like she's going a little soft. Just trying to share the wealth.

Deep down she knows that this all goes back to the rape. She hates that fucking word. Gemma hates how the rape makes her into an object that something happened to as opposed to person who went through something. She hates that the entire experience seems to have opened up a bleeding heart in her chest for mistreated women. Hell, she can't even bring herself to shout down the pussy that hangs around the club anymore. She suddenly has empathy and it's unasked for.

Still, that woman. River, Chibs had said her name was. That girl had seen some shit. Gemma had been intrigued when Clay indicated the girl would need a size smaller than Tara but Gemma had done her best. The girl had clearly been starved and that hair, jesus, someone hacked that hair off hard. It must have hurt. To be deaf on top of everything was really the last straw. Gemma runs a protective hand over her own hair and lights a smoke.

She doesn't know what she can really do for the girl. Clay had made it clear she was technically Cartel property on loan but that doesn't mean she can't have a good time right. Gemma glances down at her phone and for moment she considers calling Clay for permission first but the thought slips through her brain like silk without leaving a trace behind.

She'll call the Scot and have him bring the girl to the clubhouse tonight. He's going to have to show up anyways for church and if he brings the girl with him they can stay for the party. A few drinks and some food off the grill will do the girl good. This is just an extension of club hospitality she tells herself as she picks up the phone and scrolls for Chibs' number. This has nothing to do with saving a broken woman

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Chibs hangs up the phone feeling a little conflicted about the conversation. Gemma had kept it casual only suggesting, strongly, that he bring the lass with him to the clubhouse for church and the afterparty. He had been intending to call a prospect over to keep an eye on her so bringing her along would certainly make things easier, fewer people in his space. There's something nagging at him though and he can't place it but he feels like the entire idea is just asking for trouble.

He moves towards the bedroom and stops in the doorway to watch her for a second. River is curled up on top of the covers with a massive book. She'd asked after breakfast if she could read and he'd been surprised when she pulled down an old copy of _War and Peace,_ not exactly light reading.

He moves towards her until he's close enough to wave a hand to get her attention. She looks up from the book and her dark eyes slide over him in that disconcerting way she has. She says reading people is an occupational necessity but he feels like she'd be good at it even if she could hear. Those eyes are endless and they draw him deeper every time he looks.

"I've, uh, got a proposition for yeh darlin'." He nods towards the bed as he speaks and she seems to understand moving up and setting the book aside so he can sit down. He turns to face her and keeps talking. "Gemma called and suggested I bring yeh to the clubhouse tonight. It's going to be a party, a rager actually, yeh'll have to stay close but… would yeh be ok there?" he trails off realizing this is more than he's really said to her in one go before and he's really not sure how deaf people handle parties.

She considers him for a moment and then makes the sign she'd taught him meant eat, miming bringing a piece of something up to her mouth, eyebrows raised in question. He laughs.

"Aye, there will be food. Greedy muppet." She rolls her eyes but nods. He starts to stand but she grabs the pad from the bedside table and starts to write.

 _Thank you for asking._

He reads the words for a moment and takes a deep breath. "I suppose that was polite of me, wasn't it?" He winks and she lets out a groan before scribbling away again.

 _Don_ _'t let it go to your head. You're supposed to be scary._

He laughs. "Aye, we'll leave in a few hours." He goes to move again but she reaches out this time her hand catching on his wrist pulling him back on to the bed. He raises and eyebrow in question and she opens the book pushing it towards him a finger pointing urgently at a margin note he'd added the last time he'd read it. Her eyebrows are up in question and he shrugs. "I had a few thoughts on the character development."

She laughs out loud and he feels a surprising flame on his face. He knows it's a contradiction, the reading biker. She doesn't have to laugh at him though, but he honestly doesn't mind the sound. It had surprised him when she'd laughed at breakfast, by the far the loudest sound he's heard her make and he was taken aback by how normal it sounded. He'd almost expected her to follow it with spoken word. She's scribbling on the pad.

 _I think Pierre is a twat too._

She holds up the note for him to see and it's his turn to laugh.

"Aye, the entire book is him trying to get over a piece of pussy." She huffs another soft laugh and writes.

 _Exactly. Too many pages for that drama._

"So, why'd yeh pick it?" He fingers the old copy. He'd picked it up second hand a few years before on a particularly long run up the coast to use as night time reading.

 _It was one of my grandfather_ _'s favorites. He said it taught an important lesson._

He's surprised by the mention of any family but he nods along. "Aye, my da liked it as well." She smiles and ducks to write again.

 _I can_ _'t believe I didn't know you had an accent!_

He laughs again and she keeps writing.

 _Seriously, now that I know. I should have guessed from the slang._

He shakes his head and glances down at his watch. "Yeh want lunch?" He already knows the answer is going to be an excited yes but she seems to appreciate being asked so he does. She doesn't bother to respond in writing just dumping the book and notepad on the nightstand she jumps up and grabs his hand to pull him towards the kitchen. He's not sure when they got comfortable enough for all the casual touching but he's not really going to complain.

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 **So this isn't the longest chapter but I wanted to get something up for you guys. I'm going to try and keep up a good pace on updates but we are going through to layoffs at work so things are a little tough. I hope all you wonderful readers are doing well and enjoying the story. More soon.**

 **Reviews are always welcome no matter the topic and greatly appreciated.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks to Robin.D and Angel 897 for the reviews. Enjoy.**

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The rest of the afternoon is spent passing notes and while Chibs doesn't manage to get anything from River that the club would find useful he does learn that she's 32, likes the color purple, prefers shooting whiskey but sipping cold vodka, loves Italian food, enjoys classic literature but reads trashy fiction for fun, and loves to listen to very loud music. The last fact had confused him until she'd scribbled a note explaining that the bass comes through even without hearing.

He'd shared his own set of facts with her and although they'd both carefully avoided discussing family (possible weak spots), the past (too touchy), and the current prisoner/guard situation (obvious) he still feels like he's managed to get to know the girl. He's not sure why he's trying except that the last few days have been dead boring and she's a unique kind of puzzle.

Then the last question she asked before heading off to get ready to leave had left him a little thrown. He really hadn't known how to explain to her why he was so tense. The reasons were too numerous and complicated to get into and most of them would touch on one of the topics that were off-limits. Clearly she was trying to figure him out too.

Now, sitting on the couch waiting for her to come back he considers all the reasons for the knot between his shoulders. There was the ever-present concern for Kerrianne far away in Belfast. There was the clear conflict brewing between Jax and Clay, not to mention the divide slowly emerging between the men of the club as they subconsciously take sides over the Cartel deal.

Then there was River herself. Her situation didn't sit right with him for a number of reasons not the least of which was that the more he got to know her the more she seemed out of place in the narrative spun by Clay and the Galindo Cartel. Nothing about that girl reads Cartel shot caller. The chopped hair alone should indicate that if anything she's a woman scorned by the Mexicans not a valuable player. Then there's the fingernails which by his count are ahead of schedule, healing faster than they should, given Luis was supposed to have pulled them out the same night she arrived at the clubhouse. Finally, the weight. The girl has clearly been starved for more than a few days. He can't get it all to add up and when he piles his slowly growing affection for her on top of it all he feels ready to topple over with the weight.

He turns at the sound of booted feet and finds her standing in the door to the master bedroom watching him carefully, arms crossed over her chest. She's wearing jeans, a long sleeved black henley shirt, and a leather jacket Chibs recognizes as one Gemma used to wear. She doesn't have any makeup so he's not surprised at her clean face but it looks like she's tried to get the short hair to behave and a few shaggy locks frame her face. The bruise on her cheek is fading fast but even with it her eyes stand out against her pale skin almost too big set in sable lashes. She makes a noise of impatience and he realizes he's staring. Rising from the couch he figures he should take the time now while the light is good to lay a few ground rules.

"So when we get there I'll have to leave yeh for church. After that I'll be around though." She nods and makes the sign for eat again, eyebrows raised. "Aye, then we'll eat and the boys will hang out."

She presses her folded hands together at the fingertips in the motion she'd taught him meant more and he nods.

"There'll be a poker game, pool, drinks a'course…" He trails off trying to figure out how to explain croweaters. "There will be women about." She raises and eyebrow and he shrugs before continue, "Just ignore them and if anyone bothers yeh tell a brother. Yeh'll stick with me or Bobby most I imagine. Gemma will be there." He uses the sign she'd given him for Gemma as he speaks, a hand with index finger extended held parallel to the ground slid down his chest from sternum to breast. He'd chosen to pretend this one was a reference to MC mother's excellent rack rather than her surgery scar. River clearly has a trend when it comes to name signs.

"All that good then lass?" She nods and moves towards the garage. He follows, hoping he's not making a mistake bringing her along.

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Tig lets the sound of his brothers arriving for church bubble around him and thinks deeply. Thinking deeply wasn't really something he did often. It isn't that he is incapable of deep thought it is just that he didn't often find the need. Most of his life centered around things that could be completed instinctively, fucking for example was best with very little thought. Killing only required enough thought to not get caught. Riding required no thought, never had.

Things were changing though and it was leaving Tig in an odd space where a lot of thinking was becoming necessary. He wanted to say that it had all started with Donna but if he was honest it had been coming on for awhile before that and he's still trying to catch up. Being on the inside had felt like a short respite. Sure, he had missed several of his favorite pastimes while in lock up but being in jail didn't require much thought. It was a lot like the military and Tig had been great at being in the military.

He watches as Chibs comes through the clubhouse door, the deaf girl from the other night trailing behind him. Tig has never fucked a deaf girl and he spares a thought for how it might be different but then he pushes back to the real problem with the girl. She feels like physical proof of Clay's recent distance. He loves Clay, not in a gay way, but as a comrade in arms, like a brother. He's risked his life to save Clay on multiple occasions in the past and he takes his role as Sergeant at Arms very seriously. As far as Tig is concerned Clay's life is his responsibility and he doesn't like when it's threatened. It feels threatened now and the problem is Tig can't figure out where the threat is coming from or what is going to happen next.

Clay had gone quiet in Stockton carefully keeping everyone at arm's length while he made deals and negotiated. At the time it had made sense, they were all under constant threat and Jax was in the infirmary but now they're out and things should be getting back to normal. Except that it still feels like he's standing on one side of a wall with Clay on the other and he can't seem to get to the other side.

He watches Chibs settle the girl at the bar with a glass of water and Tig doesn't miss the way his Scottish brother's hand hovers near her lower back as he speaks carefully into her face. He wonders if Chibs is hitting that pussy. The Scot always did have a way with women but tapping Cartel property would be a bold move. Plus, the foreign bastard was technically still married. That dog. If he is getting some Tig hopes it's good.

"You okay Tiggy?" Clay slaps a hand on his back as he speaks and Tig turns to his president with a smile.

"Yea man, you?" He's hoping Clay will spill some detail to give him a read on where they're at but instead the president just smiles and nods.

"Looking forward to the after party. It's been a long week. Call in the boys." Clay turns into the chapel as he speaks and Tig whistles for the guys taking up his post by the door to collect their phones.

It had been a long week, between the surprise favor for the Cartel, the Sheriff's visit to the clubhouse, and the incident up on the reservation things were busy. The last few days had been calm and the latest run north had gone off without a hitch but it feels like the calm before the storm and everyone is on edge. Clay is right, a good party would do them good. Tig is looking forward to a few good hands of poker and a stiff drink.

Church kicks off with the usual announcements. Bobby reads through the financials which are robust to say the least these days. Weekly pay is addressed although for the first time in Tig's memory the cash isn't handed out afterward being deemed too much to carry home in one go. The Cartel did pay well. Plans for the upcoming week were reviewed quickly and then Clay got to the business with the deaf chick.

"Chibs, any news on our esteemed guest?" Clay's tone is sarcastic but he smiles.

"Not really. Know her name is River but mostly she's quiet. Literally." Chibs answers easily but Tig feels like there's more going on there.

"Nothing about this adds up." Jax jumps in and Tig isn't surprised. The young VP had spent the week making his discomfort with the entire protection situation very clear. "When was the last time we've heard of the Cartel keeping someone alive for information like this?" That part makes sense to Tig. The Cartel are generally very good information gatherers. "Does Romeo have anything new to say about it?" The last of Jax's questions is directed at Clay and the president shakes his head.

"He's had to go back to Mexico for business. Only been able to get a hold of Luis for the last few days." Clay's relaxed as he speaks and there's no concern there.

"There's her hair." Chibs speaks up. "Lass won't talk about it but Gemma pointed out it looks chopped with a blade. Cartel uses hair cutting to shame women, least they used'ta"

"So we're protecting a shamed Mexican from one Cartel for another?" Piney comes out of his tequilla long enough to lay out the blunt details.

"Sounds like bad news." Opie states the fact and Tig isn't surprised the giant man is aligned with his dad and best friend.

"I've actually been doing some research and I don't think she's Mexican. From what Bobby says she's using ASL not LSM." Juice makes his wild assertion like they're all supposed to nod along.

"What the fuck are you talking about." Clay puts weight behind every word and a few laughs rise from the table. Juice takes a deep breath and tries again.

"I looked it up and there's like 40 different sign language varieties based on the country of origin. She was using American Sign Language, ASL, the other night. If she was Mexican she would be using Mexican Sign Language, LSM. Means she was taught in a place that speaks English." The mowhawked man takes a deep breath and then adds, "she looks really familiar too. I can't place her but I feel like I've seen her before."

"Yea in a wet dream." Kozik's voice is teasing and Tig smiles while everyone else laughs along. He still doesn't feel right with the loud blond patching in while most of the club was in Stockton.

"So, a non-Mexican woman valuable to the Cartel. That's a mess we may not want a part of." Bobby's voice is even but Tig can hear the soft logic directed at Clay. The president for his part seems unconcerned.

"We've got $500k that says it's a worthwhile mess for now." Clay's tone is final and Tig doesn't miss the aggravated huff and lean from Jax. Clay ignores his VP before continuing, "Chibs, she seems to like you. Keep an eye on her, report back anything new?" The Scot nods and for a moment Tig hates that this job has put someone else closer to getting over the wall than him. "Last order of business, Tig I need you to run point on protection for another bullet run to the reservation." There it is, his job. He feels his shoulders relax. He knows how to follow an order.

"Got it." He waves his hand like it's nothing and Clay nods along.

The gavel slams down and church is over. Tig hands back burner phones to the brothers as they file out. The meeting has given him more to think about but he can see a blond croweater just waiting to scream his name and a poker table waiting to make him some extra cash. So, he pushes the thoughts away and goes with what feels right.

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 **All reviews are welcome and greatly appreciated. Seriously, reviews brighten my day and help me become a better writer.**

 **A/N: There are multiple types of sign language and signers from America would not naturally understand signers from Mexico.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks to ks, Robin.D, Angel 897, and nanarosedarkness for the reviews on the last chapter. I think you will all like this one as things are getting a little flirty. Enjoy.**

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They're sitting at one of the few tables left undamaged by the recent Sheriff's visit, Chibs is nursing a stiff glass of scotch and watching River finish her second plate of ribs. He really has no idea where the lass tucks all this food. The party is still in it's infancy, people drifting in from the lot as they arrive, the music relatively low to allow for greetings and casual conversation. He knows it will only be a few hours before the place is wild and the music is loud.

He hadn't been surprised by Juice's revelation in church an hour before. The more Chibs had gotten to know the lass the more he'd realized she didn't remind him of any Mexican he'd ever met before. Sure, she has dark coloring in the hair and eyes but her skin certainly isn't brown. He could tell in certain light that she may have a slight olive undertone that indicates she could tan up in the sun but, she is for the most part, pale. He'd even noticed a few freckles across her shoulders.

More than her appearance, nothing she's said indicates that she has a life outside the US or even a Cartel background beyond the prisoner comment. Chibs had chosen not to share that particular slip of the pen. Honestly, he's not sure if she was being flippant or candid and if she's being candid then someone is lying be it Clay or Luis. Chibs would rather not stir up the hornet's nest without more information. There's no telling what the blow back could be.

He's pulled from his thoughts by excited tapping on his arm and he looks up to see River nod towards the other side of the room where several brothers are setting the old poker table into place. He turns back to her and is caught off guard by the almost longing look in her eyes. She catches him watching and it's like a light is shut off as she instantly locks up. The lass could join the Queen's Guard with her stonewall skills. He takes a sip of his scotch and watches her pick at the rib bones littering her plate refusing to look back up at him.

He lets her stew just long enough for the boys to finish spreading green felt over the poker table and then waves his hand under her nose.

"Do yeh want to go watch the poker?" He can tell she's trying to be careful. Everything about her screams controlled excitement and when she finally nods it's with a shrug as though she doesn't care one way or the other. He struggles to hold in a smile and speaks again, "Would yeh like a drink first?"

The question sends her eyebrows skyward and she ducks her head, reaching into her leather jacket to pull out the notepad and pen from his house.

 _Mich ultra and a shot of tequila, shaken._

She pushes the pad towards him with a challenge in her eyes and he laughs on a nod.

"Aye darlin', let's get you a drink then." She follows him to the bar and when he leans against the old wooden surface he feels her do the same.

Phil makes his way towards them and Chibs is glad to see the prospect doesn't bat an eye at their supposed prisoner beside him. He is surprised though when the massive prospect waves at the lass and proceeds to move his hands in a now familiar style of motion, his fingers twisting.

"Learned a few signs, did yeh, aye?" The words come out sharper than intended and Chibs can tell he's shocked the prospect with his tone.

"Just looked a few things up after the other night. There's an app." The larger man is looking at River as he speaks and Chibs cuts his eyes in her direction to see her nodding along a smile on her face. "I was just introducing myself, but, uh what can I get you?"

Before he can answer River has waved her hand and she's signing. Chibs watches her sign her introduction back to Phil, her fingers moving in a series of complicated motions before she twists the first two fingers of her right hand around each other and turns her hand in an upright counterclockwise motion. It's not a sign she's taught him but Phil seems to understand and Chibs feels something tight coil up in his chest as the prospect replies with a new set of hand motions and a spoken "nice to meet you".

"Yeh two done?" Chibs feels bad for the way Phil's smile falters under his harshness but continues regardless, "I'll take a refill," he says shaking his glass, "and a Mich Ultra with a shot of tequila on the side, shaken." Phil nods and wanders off down the bar to get the drinks.

Chibs is not surprised when River slides the pad across the bar words already scrawled on the page.

 _You_ _'re being mean. He was nice, introduced himself._

He lets out a huff of air and meets her eyes. "What was this?" He mimics the earlier counterclockwise sign and she raises an eyebrow before pointing to her own chest. He shakes his head and she lunges up to stand on the brass foot rest under the bar so she can write with ease.

 _That_ _'s my name sign._

"Yeh never showed it to me the other day." Jesus, mother of christ, he hates himself as soon as the words leave his mouth. Her eyebrows shoot up and if he was a younger man he knows he'd be blushing. He sounds like jealous sod.

 _You never asked._

Well she's got him there for sure. "What else was he saying?" He tries to convince himself he's asking as part of his responsibility as her club appointed keeper. She looks like she wants to roll her eyes but instead she ducks her head to write again. He realizes he can see straight down her shirt at this angle. His eyes snap to the ceiling and he leaves them there until she taps the pen against his arm to read.

 _My name is Phil and nice to meet you._ Then a gap in the page and, _Are you okay?_

He just nods in reply. In reality he's not okay. He'd been growing used to the idea that he knows more about her than any of his brothers. He'd started to like the idea actually. She was his own personal puzzle to figure out and in the space of two hours he's had Juice and Phil show up with pieces straight off Google. It's annoying.

"Here you go." Phil sounds a little defeated when he finally deposits the drinks in front of them and Chibs feels terrible. He watches River sign thank you, her hand popping forward off her chin. The big prospect smiles and Chibs watches him plod off to help someone else.

He turns to River and pulls back when he realizes with the way she's standing propped up on the foot rest she's at his eye level and close. Her eyes flick around the bar and then back to his face and she gives him a quick wicked smile, one he's never seen before. It makes her eyes light up and his chest tightens again. She glances down in a meaningful way and he follows her gaze to see Phil has poured them matching shots.

"Shots then?" She nods eagerly at his words and drops off the bar so both her feet are planted back firmly on the ground. "Cheers lass" he reaches for the shot and matches her movements, clicking his little glass against hers before downing the chilled liquor. He watches her drink her own through half lidded eyes and she downs it like a pro before slamming the empty glass back onto the bar.

He waits for her to tuck the notepad back into her jacket and pick up the beer before leading her towards the poker table. The first hand is already in progress, they'd just missed the flop, and Chibs shoos a few croweaters away from the closest high top to they can see the game and still pass notes. He watches River watch the game. She's stone faced and her whole body looks relaxed as her eyes trace their way around the table taking in the players and the community cards.

Happy is dealing and all eyes are laser focused on him as he lays down the fifth turn. There are a few groans from the men playing and Chibs watches as Tig folds without waiting for the call. Chibs cuts his eyes back to River and she's sipping her beer casually, one leg folded over the other. To a casual observer she would look only half interested in the action at the table. Her eyes are sharp through and he can see them darting from player to player. He nudges her with an elbow and her eyes fly to his face.

"Yeh know how to play?" He knows the answer already but he can't help the little dig. She abandons her beer to pull the notepad back out of her inside pocket. He waits patiently watching the poker players call and raise.

 _Enough._

She shrugs as she passes him the note and he would bet money she knows more than enough. She pulls the pad back towards herself and writes again.

 _$10 the blond VP folds next._

He stares down at the words for a long moment before looking back up to see a clear challenge in her eyes.

"Yeh don't have any money darlin'." He can't help the leer that spreads over his face with the words and it almost feels like they're flirting. They can't be though. She nods and then writes.

 _If I lose I_ _'ll work off the debt. Bookie's choice._

He glances down at the pad and then back up to her face where she's got that wicked little smile back in place.

"Aye," he takes a long pull on his scotch considering the offer. Can't be much harm in it really. "Okay then lass. Jax folds next. Bookie's choice or a tenner for yeh." She holds out her hand and he laughs before shaking on the deal.

The bets are placed on the table and Happy turns out the river completing the community cards. Chibs raises an eyebrow as Jax chucks his cards down with a groan. He turns to River only to find her staring him down with her hand out palm up and a face on that clearly means _pay me._ He raises an eyebrow, that's usually his move.

"Double or nothing yeh can't call the next hand's winner by the turn." She seems to consider him for a moment and then nods picking her beer back up and turning to the table just in time to see Bobby rake in his winnings from the first pot.

The next hand starts fast and Bobby is dealing. He watches her and she's methodical. Her eyes swinging from player to player. He realizes she's not even bothering to watch the cards using every thread of her attention to scan the men playing. Smart. Chibs learned to play poker from his grandfather in a shithole Glasgow pub and the first lesson had been you play the men not the cards. He realizes River has learned this lesson too and learned it well.

When Bobby lays out the turn she waits until a few of the men have made their calls and then leans forward to scribble on the pad.

 _The dark curly haired one will take the pot but the president will follow him to the showdown._

Chibs reads the note and smiles to himself. He carefully scratches out descriptions to add the names Tig and Clay to the page for her benefit and passes it back with a nod.

"You're on." She smiles confidently and leans back to take a sip of her beer.

Sure, enough at the showdown only Clay and Tig are left. Chibs watches with interest as Clay lays down his straight with a smile but Tig laughs his way to the money on a heart flush. He turns back to River to find a little smile on her face and the notepad neatly sitting in between them.

 _Double it on the next hand?_

He makes sure she can see him nod. This is going to get interesting.

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 **More soon. Reviews are always welcome both happy and critical. I'm off work for the next week so there will be lots of writing happening and some extra posting!**

 **A note on poker, in a game of Texas hold em the first two cards dealt to every player are the "hole" cards. Then five cards are laid on the table in order that all players can use for their hand. The first three cards are put down at once and called the "flop". The next card laid down is called the "turn" and the last card is called the "river". After each card is turned there is a round of betting where a player can check, bet, or fold. If you hold out past the river round of betting you reach the "showdown". Some of you may already know all this but I'm going to use these terms a lot moving forward so I thought I'd run through it just in case.**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you to vilevillan, Robin.D, Momoftwins1970, and Angel897 for the reviews on the last chapter. You are all amazing. Also thank you to everyone who has followed and favorited so far. We're still just getting started. Enjoy.**

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Two hours, six hands of Texas Hold 'Em, and $500 dollars later Chibs is still trying to figure out exactly how River is correctly determining the outcome of every hand. Three scotches ago he'd been convinced it was just good people watching but now he's pretty sure the woman is a witch. He's tested her too, changing up the bet from who's going to win to who's going to fold and when in the hand it happens but so far, she's only missed the mark once and it was on a side bet not the real deal. The dollar figure had gotten so high they'd started a tally on spare piece of paper.

He's also trying to figure out how he's going to explain the fact that he now owes their _prisoner_ a solid chunk of green to Clay when Happy abandons the table for a redhead across the room.

"Chibs you want his seat?" Jax is watching him from across the green felt as he speaks and Chibs is about to answer when River waves her hand for his attention. She points at her own chest and then nods to Happy's empty chair. Lass has had too many beers he thinks but she's insistent.

"What, does she want to play?" Tig sounds incredulous but at his question River makes a noise in the back of her throat and nods.

"With what money?" Kozik asks but Chibs is relieved at least his blond brother sounds amused by the idea. River snatches up the notepad at the question and then ducks her head to write before holding the paper out to Chibs. He already knows what it's going to say.

 _Pay up bookie._

He groans and drops his scotch on the table to reach for his wallet.

"You going to bank roll her Chibs?" Opie is teasing and Chibs rolls his eyes.

"Lass and I had some side action going. She's holdin' me down for half a grand." He ignores the low whistle from Bobby and peels off the crisp bills putting them into River's waiting hand.

"Quite the shakedown, girl." Bobby is nodding along and Chibs doesn't miss the way all eyes are on Clay.

"Never played poker with pussy before but now you assholes can't say I don't try new things." Clay kicks the free chair out from the table as he talks and River glides forward to take the seat. "Someone get this bitch a new beer." The joking shout from Clay cuts what's left of the tension and the brothers laugh as Phil comes forward carrying a cold bottle to River. "New player deals"

Clay passes River the cards and for a moment Chibs worries for her still healing fingers but his concerns are unfounded. She picks up the deck and he watches as she cuts the cards one handed before shuffling them with the efficiency of a Vegas pit boss. The cards snap against each other sharply and every man at the table sits up a little straighter.

"Oh shit, we've got a live one." Kozik lets out the words on a laugh and elbows Jax as he talks.

Chibs watches as Bobby carefully trades the new bills River pushed to the middle of the table for chips from the bank. River tosses out the hole cards with speed and Chibs wonders what he's accidentally unleashed on the men at the table.

He scans the room as they make the first round of bets and calls. It hasn't gone unnoticed that River is at the table and Chibs can see a few hangarounds peering over at the game in interest. The clubhouse has gotten loud while they've been watching the game and there are several visiting NOMADS plus Juice talking up a group of women on the other side of the room. Happy has retreated to a dark corner with his redhead. The present Old Ladies are gathered at the pool table playing doubles.

He turns back to the table in time for the flop and he watches River. She looks impossibly calm. She's got $200 in the pot and she matches Bobby's raise to add another $50 when her turn comes. Her hole cards sit face down on the felt in front of her and her eyes are carefully taking in the other players. His brothers, for their part, are engaging in their usual poker talk and he knows they're underestimating her.

"So, I've got this blond bent over the bed and we're going at it…"

"Was she still alive at this point?" Tig is cut off by the dry question from Bobby and the men laugh as River lays down the turn. The betting continues and he watches her stack of chips as she carefully pays in every call but doesn't raise. Bobby, Kozik, and Opie drop out before she lays down the river and Jax folds before the last round of betting but Clay and Tig take it to the showdown.

"You sure you don't want to step back there darling?" Clay keeps his eyes on River as he talks but she just picks up her cards and shrugs. "Okay then."

They lay them down and the table erupts as River drops a straight flush. She barely smiles as she takes in Tig's 3 of a kind and Clay's full house before pulling the chips to her seat. Chibs takes a long pull on his drink and watches as she carefully stacks over a grand in chips into neat little columns before pushing the dealer button to Kozik on her left.

"She's a fucking shark" Tig looks absolutely thrilled at this turn of events and Chibs watches as the lanky man cracks his knuckles getting ready for the next hand.

"Lucky hand." Clay looks less than amused and Chibs does not appreciate the dark look in his president's eyes. "Deal Kozik."

River folds on the turn in the next hand but she wins the third hand to a table of folds with 3 of a kind in her hand. Jax and Opie drop out laughing after the fourth hand, another pot to River, to get home to their kids and the clubhouse is getting rowdier as the clock strays closer to 1am. Chibs is on his seventh scotch and he knows they're not going to make it back to his house tonight at least not without laying down the bike.

Bobby is dealing and Chibs can see Clay is silently seething. River is sitting on almost $3,000 in chips and she looks at home with a beer in one hand the other holding her hole cards face down.

"She's fleecing them." Juice's voice surprises him and Chibs turns to look at the younger man. "How'd she get the seat money?"

"She fleeced me firs'." His accent is thick with drink and he slings an arm around Juice's shoulders. Juice is watching her and Chibs turns his head to do the same. Her eyes are unreadable and when her turn comes to throw in she ducks her head and peels the chips off a stack. Throwing in the call and a raise with what appears to be a practiced move before taking a long pull off her beer.

"She looks so familiar." Juice's voice is far away and Chibs realizes the boy is sloshed. Not that he can really judge.

"Yeh know who should look familiar? That girl Karen. She was asking about you last week Juicy-boy." Chibs nods across the bar towards the dark-haired croweater who is clearly making eyes at the mowhawked man. "Go get yer dick wet." Juice lets out a barked laugh at this order.

"Yes, sir." Juice slurs the words and Chibs watches the younger man stumble off towards welcoming pussy before turning back to the game.

His shoulders tense as he realizes Bobby has just laid down the river and it's down to just River and Clay. A small crowd has gathered while he was busy with Juice. Clay raises the pot by $300 and for the first time since she sat down River seems uncertain. Chibs watches her pick up her hole cards and read them and then her eyes slide up to his face. He can see the question there and even with his drink addled brain he knows to shake his head a silent no. She doesn't react to him but turns back to Clay meeting the older man's eyes before sliding her cards forward, folding.

The small crowd claps and a few of the women hoot laughs. Clay stands to accept a high five on his win from Tig and it's an unspoken sign that the game is over. Brothers gather their chips and turn to Bobby to get their cash out of the bank. Chibs watches as River stands and quickly gathers up the cards from the table her folded hole cards disappearing into the stack. He has no doubt she would have won the hand. He steps over to join her, scotch in hand.

"Had a few lucky hands there didn't she?" Clay speaks directly over her head to Chibs and the Scot knows the disrespect is probably intentional.

"Yea, she did." Chibs nods along as he speaks. He's not sure where this conversation is going.

"You still good keeping an eye on her? Shouldn't be for too much longer." It feels like a trick question from Clay.

"Aye, when she's not tricking me out of my pocket change she's easy. No fuss." Chibs clips his words, trying to sound like he's discussing something casual.

"Don't get too attached brother. Still Cartel property, right?" Clay smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes and Chibs laughs to break the tension.

"Never forget it, brotha." He holds out his glass for a cheers and Clay relaxes into the familiar gesture, his hard eyes going soft.

"Have fun then." With the parting words the president wanders off and Chibs looks down to see River watching him. She mimes smoking a cigarette and he nods.

"Aye lass, but let's just smoke in the dorm. I'm not going to be upright for much longer." To emphasize his point, he downs the last of his drink and clumsily slams the glass onto a nearby high top.

She nods and even drunk he doesn't miss the way she leaves her chips on the table before turning towards the dorms. He follows her trying to pretend that he can't see how tense her shoulders are.

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 **All r** **eviews are always welcome. More coming soon.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Thanks to tellmesweetlittlelies, Robin.D, angel897, and nanarosedarkness for the reviews. I have to apologize for the delay in this chapter. I work in marketing and the run up to Black Friday is terribly busy. Good news, there's a long weekend a head so I should have a second update coming Friday or Saturday.**

 **Enjoy.**

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When they hit the hallway River heads for the room they'd kept her in the first night at the clubhouse but before she can reach for the handle Chibs grabs her wrist. She watches him curious as he presses his ear to the door before he pulls away shaking his head with a smile.

"It's occupied darlin'." He's got a grin on his face and it takes her a moment to realize what he means. When she does her nose crinkles up in disgust and she raises her eyebrows signing " _where?_ _"_

To his credit Chibs recognizes the movement he'd only learned a few days before and answers her without much hesitation.

"Come on." He grabs her hand and the move is more comfortable than it should be but she doesn't pull away as he leads her two doors to the left and she reads the little silver name plate on the door. This is his room. He drops her hand to fumble with the keys attached to his wallet chain. It takes him a few moments to get the door open but when he does she glances down the hallway to make sure they're alone before following him inside and closing the door behind herself.

The room is pitch black until a lamp on the desk flashes on and he's knocked over the chair trying to cross the room. She picks it up and sits. It's the only place other than the bed and River isn't sure being on a bed near the drunk Scot is a good idea.

She likes Chibs. She'd started to like him around day two but determined that it was okay to admit it somewhere around the time they were discussing classic literature that afternoon. He's kind and relatively thoughtful. He does his best to make her comfortable despite her prisoner status and she's pretty sure he'd been flirting with her earlier in the evening. Liking someone, however, is the fastest way to wind up dead. Sure, he'd promised not to kill her but that doesn't mean he can't pass the gun to one of his leather wearing brothers. She's only about 60% sure she doesn't have Stockholm Syndrome.

He's digging through desk drawers and she watches him throw items onto the wooden top as he looks for who knows what. He'd been right when he'd accused her at being better at reading lips than she let on. Hiding the skill was a long-founded protection mechanism, honed over years of delicate and dangerous situations. She knew what Clay had said to him at the end of the game. Cartel property, what a fucking mess.

River spent most of her life around protective testosterone filled men, she knows how Clay sees her. She'd started the betting with Chibs earlier in the night to give them something to talk about, or really to flirt back. She'd liked his leering smile and the way she'd caught him staring down her top. It'd been a minute since anyone had looked at her that way and when combined with the tequila shot it had made her feel warm.

Joining the poker game though, that had been a mix of desperate longing and rebellion against her current situation. She loves poker, doesn't matter what kind, she's been happy to play since she learned at her father's knee as a little girl. She's good at it too. She'd been on her way to making a living at the table before this whole mess. She missed the game and watching them play when she had $500 sitting in bank with Chibs was too much to pass up. She'd hit a nerve though.

She'd seen the danger in Clay's eyes on that last hand. He'd been amused at first and she'd played it up being careful not to bet too boldly or push players out of the game too soon. She'd taken it too far though, she'd revealed too much of herself and the MC president did not like losing his money. She'd sensed the line as it got closer but Chibs' drunken warning had been enough to let her know she'd gotten far too close. Still, folding on an ace high straight felt disgusting.

She lets out a little sigh and Chibs waves his hand in her face, sweet smelling smoke curling up from his fingers. Her head snaps up eyes wide and he nods pushing the joint at her with raised eye brows. Well at least she knows what he'd been looking for. She smiles and takes the spliff from him carefully. He's watching her, his eyes just a little fuzzy, she decides not to disappoint and inhales deeply maintaining eye contact while she holds in the dry smoke before tipping her head back and blowing it out to the ceiling. He's still watching her when she looks back down.

"Yeh could have won the last hand." It's not a question. She just passes the weed back to him and strips off the leather jacket she's had on all night. "Yeh pissed him off."

It's like something snaps and she doesn't care that he can't sign. She's got a few things to say.

 _Of course, I could have won. That whole table was a collection of obvious fucking tells._

It feels good to sign in full fucking sentences. She can tell he's taken aback and his eyes widen. He opens his mouth but she makes a strangled noise in her throat and keeps moving.

 _I_ _'ve been held against my will for months. I'm tired, I'm fucking starving, I don't have my own clothes. I miss my home. I hate these fucking boots. They took them off a dead woman in a cut shop three weeks ago and they give me blisters._

She stops moving to take a deep breath and he's watching her come unraveled impassively.

 _I haven_ _'t slept a full night in over two months. I'm 15 pounds underweight. I miss my family and I don't even know if I can go home after this whole thing because they might fucking kill me. I just want to go home. The last thing I am worried about is pissing off stupid Clay in a dick measuring contest during a poker game._

She's made a strangled noise of frustration and he's leaning back against the desk watching her with dangerously dark eyes. When she pauses, breathing hard, he takes a long pull on the joint.

"Aye is that all then?" He exhales after he speaks and she stands in frustration the chair falling over again with her haste.

 _Fuck you._

He knows that sign. She can tell from the way his eyes go hard. He's so fast when he reaches for her she doesn't have time to react and before she knows it he's pulled her to him and he's got her held between his legs. She struggles, her anger over flowing, one hand coming up to try and scratch his face with non-existent nails. He tosses the joint and grabs her wrist, twisting it behind her until both are trapped in one of his larger hands against her back. She tries to kick at him but it's useless so she lunges forward maybe she can bite him. He catches her chin in his free hand and holds her still.

"Calm down." She's breathing hard and every breath tugs painfully at her still bruised ribs. "Yeh don't have room for mistakes and yeh don't have room for anger. Do yeh understand me." From the careful way he's speaking she knows he wants to make sure she picks up every word he's putting down. She nods.

"Are yeh going to stay calm?" She takes the deepest breath she can and closes her eyes for moment letting her mind go blank, she focuses letting her body go soft. Releasing each tight muscle. She lets her eyes drift open to find him watching her, his eyes half lidded, irises blown out by the pot. She nods. His hand releases her wrists and drops to hold her hip keeping her in place. She zeros in on his lips.

"I don't know how yeh got here lass or what all that was about but yer in a tight spot." He pauses and looks away for a moment before looking back at her and his eyes carry some conviction now. "I'm going to do what I can to get yeh out of this whole mess alive but yeh can't afford mistakes. Head in the game, yea?" He releases her chin and taps at his temple as he talks and she nods and slowly mouths okay. "Okay then." He mumbles.

The quiet agreement has broken the tension of the room entirely. With her anger managed River becomes painfully aware of the hand he has sitting low on her hip, his calloused thumb rubbing gently at the skin just over the waistband of her jeans. She looks down and watches as his ringed hand tightens on her the movement over her hipbone stilling. Sliding her eyes back up she finds him still staring at her intently, his eyes have gone soft.

He lets out a soft huff of air and for moment she thinks he's going to kiss her. His eyes are trained on her lips and he shifts just a bit, his hand flexing again on her hip. His head comes forward but instead of landing on her lips his forehead comes down on her shoulder, the hand on her hip moving around to slide up her back. She can feel his breath hot against her skin and his other hand lands on her head to tangle in her short hair, pressing her forward until her forehead lands on his chest. River doesn't question it, she hasn't been held her like this in months.

When she finally reacts, wrapping her arms around him she can feel the scratchy fabric of the patch on his back under her fingers and she presses her face into the leather of his cut. He tightens his arms just a bit and she decides that Stockholm Syndrome or not she needs this. He smells like cigarettes, weed, whiskey, and comfort. She refuses to cry but she can't help the soft sigh that leaves her throat from the contact.

As suddenly as it all starts it's over and he gently pushes her back from him until they're only connected by his hands at her hips. She lets her hands hang uselessly at her sides and stares up at him. His eyes are even more unfocused and she suspects the joint is finally hitting his system.

"Flip yeh for the bed?" The offer is so unexpected after everything she laughs and then slams a palm over her mouth in embarrassment. This seems to be the exact right reaction because his head goes back and she knows he's laughing. "Never mind, yeh can just have it." She shakes her head and lifts her hands signing _share_.

He doesn't get it at first but she gestures a few more times using her fingers to indicate them both and he picks up the gist. "Yeh sure." She nods. He doesn't even have all the facts and he's just made himself her only ally in all this and she can't bring herself to make him sleep on the floor.

He doesn't argue anymore. Releasing her entirely he rights the tipped chair and drapes the cut over the back. She uses the time to toe off her hated boots and after a moment of hesitation she undoes the jeans shedding them quickly and getting under the covers in her tank top and underwear. She's thankful Gemma bought panties with a bit of coverage.

He shows no such hesitation and she watches with wide eyes as he moves about the room, laying a shoulder holster on the desk before stripping down to his boxers. She gets a quick look at a wealth of ink spread across his chest and back while he flips the lock and turns off the light, then he gets into the bed. She's trapped in the dark between the heat of his body and the wall, she finds it oddly comforting.

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 **Reviews are always welcome.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks to ks, Angel897, Robin.D, wheredidallthedreamersgo, and Hannah for the reviews. Also a thank you to everyone who has favorited and followed. I hope you're all still enjoying this story. Finally a Happy Thanksgiving to my American readers!**

 **Enjoy.**

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Chibs wakes up the next morning and he really was getting too old to drink like this. He drags his 44-year-old ass out of bed and it's not until he's three steps to the attached bathroom that he realizes River should have been in the bed next to him. He spins on his heel to confirm the bed is now empty, the sheets pulled back. Franticly his eyes scan the room and he finds her boots and jeans missing but the leather jacket is still thrown over the foot board.

He rubs a hand over his face with a groan and snatches his jeans off the floor, pulling them on. He doesn't bother with the button as he slams out of the dorm room and down the hall into the clubhouse in bare feet. The sight of the clubhouse after a Friday night party is familiar. Brothers are still asleep around the room. Chibs makes out Bobby face down on the worn couch by the pool table, a half-naked woman draped across his back. Happy is spread across the felt of the pool table, a croweater's head on each shoulder. Kozik, that blond bastard, is asleep sitting up a redhead curled into his lap. Chibs lets his eyes drift taking stock of the rest of the room's occupants and only finds one clear missing person, River.

"Mother fucking christ." He lets the words out on a breath and starts to pick his way across the room towards the door, dodging broken glass and sticky looking spots as he goes. He swears to god if that damn woman chose now to try and make some sort of escape he's going to find her and then wring her little neck promises or no. He honestly thought they'd reached a bit of an agreement the night before.

She'd scared him with that shit at the poker table. Watching Clay get more and more worked up as she won hand after hand had put Chibs on edge. Walking the neutral line with the MC president was getting harder and harder. Chibs can feel the moment coming up quick where he'd be forced to pick a side. He'd made things more dangerous for himself with the promises made the night before but he hadn't been able to resist.

He likes River. He can't help it. Three days holed up with her in his house, only the occasional visitor to break up the time, is more time than he thinks he's spent with a woman in years. It helps that she's funny, seemingly intelligent, and calm under pressure. In fact, her generally cool head is what made the night before so shocking.

He'd sensed the outburst brewing but the sight of her so worked up had been impressive. He can still see her, hands flying, a flush climbing her chest to her cheeks. If she'd had a voice she would have been yelling. He has no idea what she'd signed in the little tirade but he could tell by her face some of had probably been cathartic. He'd let her rant it out knowing she needed the release but his mind had been racing ahead.

If any of his suspicions about her were correct then she was caught in the midst of a dangerous game. One more likely to get her killed than out whole and Chibs has played dangerous games like this before. Calm was good, calm kept you alive. He liked her calm and controlled, it created a little spark of hope that she would get out of everything fine. Angry though, angry made people do stupid things and the last thing the lass needed was to do something stupid.

He hadn't recognized the _fuck you_ when she'd signed, but it didn't take a genius to get that it was something rude, and he'd reacted on instinct. He's still not sure where the promises he'd made came from though. It was just the feel of her too thin body pressed up against his and her too big eyes staring him down almost completely unguarded. God, he had a serious white knight syndrome. He'd never been able to help himself when a fiery damsel in distress turned up. He'd meant what he said though.

He meant it so hard and, then, after. When she'd done her little relaxation magic trick. The feel of her smooth skin under his hand and the weed had hit him, everything about her had looked so soft and so lost and so _vulnerable_. She'd let him pull her in tight and it had felt like permission to care about her. He'd let himself take the moment, he'd needed it. Now he stands barefoot the next morning and the little witch might have run off on him. Christ he's a lost cause.

He pushes open the door to the clubhouse and the morning light hits his face like a mac-truck. He squints momentarily blinded and shuffles out, turning blindly towards the picnic tables. As his vision clears he looks around, scanning over discarded beer bottles and leftover plates from the night before. His eyes finally hit the last table outside the overhang and his shoulders sag in relief.

River is sitting at the table, a cigarette between her lips, watching Jax talk while Opie and Tig laugh. Jax must be telling a funny story because he's gesturing with his hands as he speaks. He clearly hits the punchline as Chibs approaches as Tig and Opie let out loud full laughs and River huffs out her last drag on the fag, a smile on her face.

"Yeh all having a nice brunch then?" He keeps his tone light and steps up to the table as he talks.

"Just reliving last night brother." Jax smiles as he speaks and Chibs can't find anything insincere in the younger man's face.

"Tig and River were filling us in on the end of the game. Tig was also filling us in on the sweetbutt he finally convinced to give him a good night." Opie speaks with his face turned to River and Chibs can see her eyes watching the move of his lips. He glances down at the table and sees she's snagged his smokes for the morning. Cheeky bitch.

"That so Tiggy? Found a woman who can put up that firehose yeh call a dick?" They all laugh again and Chibs drops into the seat next to River as he speaks, snatching his smokes off the table. "These," he waves his hand to get her attention, "are mine, yeh hear me?" She rolls her eyes and holds up her middle finger.

"Someone has gotten comfortable." Opie's voice is teasing.

"Aye, fucking prisoner my arse. Clearly no one told the bint she's on lockdown." Chibs growls the words and lights a smoke, cutting his eyes over to River's. She's calm and collected her eyes drifting lazily from man to man.

"Sometimes the ladies are into that man." Tig has a faraway look in his eyes as he speaks. "You know, the fantasy. They just want you to sneak up on them one day and bam," he slams his palm on the table for emphasis, "fuck em right in the ass." Chibs snorts in laughter and he doesn't miss how River's eyes go wide.

"Jesus you're a sick fuck." Opie wipes a hand down his smiling face as he speaks.

River waves her hand to get their attention and pushes the notepad towards Tig, her neat writing clear on the page. Tig snatches up the pad and from the easy way he starts to read out loud Chibs realizes this isn't the first note she's passed this morning.

"Better be careful, someone may turn the tables on you one day." Tig shakes his head while Opie and Jax laugh.

"Woman has yeh there Tigger." Chibs teases.

"Yea," Jax adds, "I mean one minute you're working on your bike and then bam," he mimics Tig's earlier palm slap, "fucked right up the ass."

"You're all assholes." Tig is miming hurt, almost pouting and Jax and Opie start in on him again.

Chibs lets their conversation fade away and stares at River until she looks over meeting his eyes. He tilts his head just enough and he hopes she understands he's asking if she's okay. She nods just enough and then smiles big letting out a small laugh and he realizes she's acting along with the conversation of the other men even as she looks at him. It's a skill he knows takes practice and he wonders why the hell she has it.

"Shit, we have to move on that bullet run. Chibs, you guys good here." All three men stand as Tig speaks.

"Aye, I'll have the prepay if yeh need me." Jax nods and claps a hand to his shoulder as he moves past.

"River, a pleasure." She meets Jax's words with a nod and smile.

Chibs watches as they move towards bikes. He waits until they're past the gate out of the lot before he shifting to straddle the bench so he's facing River. She's just lit another cigarette, staring out into the morning sun, one hand tapping out a random pattern on the old wood table. He pokes a finger into her thigh to get her attention.

"What do yeh think yer doing?" His accent is thick on the question. She exhales smoke through her nose and reaches for the pen.

 _Keeping my head in the game._

He cocks and eyebrow. "Are yeh, aye?" She nods and starts to write again. He waits while she writes out what seems to be a long message, taking a drag from his own smoke. She pushes the pad towards him.

 _It_ _'s harder to kill someone you've laughed with._

He feels like she's underestimating his brothers but he keeps reading.

 _They don_ _'t like Clay. Every time his name comes up Jax goes tense and runs his hand through his hair. Opie tugs his beard. Tig isn't sure but he's lost._

Chibs shakes his head and snatches the pen scratching through the words until they can't be seen. If she's going to write shite like that they need to find a medium that leaves less evidence.

"Tig is not lost." Even as he says the words Chibs knows they're not true. The Sergeant at Arms had been drifting recently and Chibs knows the divide created by the Cartel deal is just getting wider. River is pushing the notepad back towards him.

 _He thinks the bullet run is beneath him._

Chibs again starts to scratch the words out but River makes an annoyed noise and snatches back the pad, ripping off the top page he watches as she sets it on fire holding it between two fingers until the flames lick close to her hand before dropping it to smear the ash under a booted foot. She writes clean on a fresh sheet of paper.

 _We wouldn_ _'t have to talk like this if you'd get me a phone._

He tilts his head to the side not sure what she means. "Yeh can talk on the phone?"

 _There_ _'s an app. Speaks for me. Need an air-gapped Android smartphone._

She underlines the "air-gapped" part and Chibs has no idea what that means but he rips the page off the pad and tucks it into the back pocket of his jeans with a nod. "I'll ask Juice later." She shrugs in response and stands, she's turning to go inside when he puts his hand on her thigh.

"Yeh should go get some more sleep. I'll wake yeh when it's time to head back to the house." She stares down at him for a long moment and then signs thank you. He is surprised when instead of dropping her hand afterward she slides the fingers through his hair, tugging gently at his shaggy locks. It's the move of one lover comforting another and he gets the message loud and clear. _It_ _'s all going to be okay._ He wonders what it is that makes her strong enough to offer him comfort.

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 **Reviews are always welcome. More soon.**


	16. Chapter 16

**I'm the worst! First I spent forever ironing out details of this subplot before being ready to post and then life and the holidays got in the way. This is a relatively short one but, good news! I'm off all next week so expect more updates.**

 **Thanks to Guest, ks, Momoftwins1970, Angel897, Robin.D, tellmesweetlittlelies, and Gorjess0242 for the reviews! You all wonderful. Also a big thank you to everyone who reads, follows, and favorites.**

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Juice stares down from the roof at the scene below. He'd been on top of the clubhouse since the sun came up trying to sort through his thoughts. He'd seen Jax and Opie roll into the lot. Then Tig had joined, followed shortly by River. He'd listened as they'd all joked and laughed with each other. Perched so that he could see them all over the concrete edge he'd watched as River managed to get them all smiling with quick written jabs. Then he'd watched as a shirtless Chibs joined the group and soon the other men drifted away.

The conversation had gone tense after that. Juice had watched her burn the page from the notepad wishing he knew what they were talking about but Chibs was speaking too softly for his words to reach the roof and it was far too distant to read. It'd looked like they were about to go in, which was good because Juice had to piss like a racehorse but when she'd stood Chibs stopped her and Juice had watched the next exchange in fascination.

The way the Scot had grabbed her thigh, almost possessively and looked up at her his mouth moving but Juice couldn't hear the words. It must have been something sweet though because she'd touched her lips and then slid her fingers into his hair.

It is an intimate moment and one Juice knew no one was meant to see. There is something hopelessly romantic about them with River a long pillar of grace standing tall while the shirtless and tatted Chibs sits watching her with an unreadable expression on his face. They are framed by the morning light, beautiful and bright. Juice feels tears prick his eyes and he turns pressing his back into the rough concrete of the half wall.

He presses the heels of his palms into his face willing himself to keep it together. It doesn't matter how hard he presses he can still see Sheriff Roosevelt's calm face as he put the manila folder down on the interrogation table that damn photo paper-clipped to the inside. That fucking photo, a scrap of paper ready to ruin his entire life. That's all it would take to destroy the closest thing to a real family Juice has ever had.

He'd never hated his father, not really. Juice had lived the life he'd lived. His father hadn't wanted to stay and that was fine by him really. He'd loved his mother and while she'd never returned that love he knew she cared for him in her own way. The fact that his father was black had never really crossed his mind as worth worrying about. Juice had given it a passing consideration when he'd started his prospect year but the man was such a non-existent factor in his life and he'd wanted the cut so he'd pushed the concern away and moved on.

Now though, years later, Juice has a family. He feels loved and able to love in a way that he's never had before and the idea that one photo and a piece of shit birth certificate can come out of nowhere and ruin it feels like a knife to the gut. Rat. Just thinking the word twists him up inside. The Sheriff hadn't been clear on the details or willing to bring the shot-caller into the room but he'd made it clear that they had all the information they needed to bring Juice's world down around his ears.

Now it's just waiting for the other shoe to drop and Juice isn't sure if he can do it. Every time a brother speaks to him he can feel his heart jump to his throat expecting the smile to turn and a knife to the back. Except they won't do it like that. They'd hold a vote and make him sit in the room while they condemn him one by one before putting a bullet in his head. It wouldn't be a surprise when it came, he'd see his death flying towards him with the reaper's smile. The idea sends a shiver down his spine.

He takes a deep breath and looks over the edge of the wall again. River has gone and Chibs is sitting alone at the table smoking. Juice watches him for a moment. He'd feel the loss of Chibs the hardest. The older man is always quick with a smile and easy and easy laugh or advice in a tough spot. Maybe he could talk to Chibs, the Scot knew what it was to be a black sheep, well not literally but close enough.

Then there's River, Chibs seemed like he was getting in deep with the deaf woman and Juice isn't sure how her situation might change things. He'd heard Clay joking about Chibs getting a piece of her despite her prisoner status but what Juice just saw didn't look like an easy piece of pussy. It looked deeper and just a bit darker. What if Chibs has his own secrets to keep and there's no room for him. He runs a hand over his mohawk and forces himself to think hard. What would Chibs tell him to do.

Find leverage, be calm. The older man was always talking about leverage. Leverage will always save your ass. So, if he needs leverage what is there. If there's anyone who is going to speak up in his defense Juice knows it'll be Chibs and what does he have that will get Chibs to listen. He runs his sweaty palms down his thighs in frustration. Chibs is a mostly open book, he wears his past on his face and he's never been one to hide things from his brothers but then Juice had just seen him burn a note from a Cartel prisoner.

River, a weak spot maybe? A choice? Some hope. Juice knows the woman looks familiar. He'd almost managed to place her face the night before but he'd been dead drunk and the mention of Karen had made everything but thoughts of blow jobs and massive tits fly out of his head. If he could figure out who River is and why she's valuable to the Cartel maybe it would be enough to get Chibs to listen. Fuck, maybe it would be enough to buy him back from mayhem.

He takes a deep breath and allows himself a small smile. Leverage. He can do this.

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 **Juice is being bad... hope you all enjoyed it. Reviews are very welcome.**

 **More very soon!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks to Angel897, Robin.D, Gorgess0242, Momoftwins1970, and tellmesweetlittlelies for the reviews. You guys are amazing. Also thank you to everyone who read, favorited, and followed.**

 **Enjoy!**

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It's Sunday morning and Chibs is spread over the couch watching as River alphabetizes his bookshelves by title. Between getting the boys up and some business around the clubhouse it had been late afternoon the day before by the time he'd gotten them both back to the house. He'd ordered in cheeseburgers, checked her bruised ribs (only a few more days you should be fine, he'd said), and then they'd each gone their own way. She'd disappeared into the bedroom to read and he'd taken care of some outstanding bills. She'd woken him up late and he'd been surprised when she took his hand and pulled him towards the bedroom. He wasn't going to complain about sharing another platonic bed with her. The couch was getting to his back.

He'd woken up an hour or so ago to the smell of something burning and a loud beeping. He'd rushed into the kitchen to find River bent over the coffee maker staring at the buttons with a very confused look on her face, a pan of now crispy canned cinnamon rolls in the oven, the stove top timer blaring away. She'd looked embarrassed when he pulled the baked goods out and set them on the stove to cool but he'd waved her off. Wasn't her fault she couldn't hear the buzzer going. He has a feeling her sudden organizational drive is an attempt at an apology for the burned breakfast. He doesn't know why she's bothering, they'd finished the pan anyways.

He's pulled from his thoughts by a pealing laugh and he looks up just in time for a heavy tome to fall into his stomach with a flop. He huffs out a breath and shoots River a dirty look but she just cuts her eyes at him another laugh falling from her lips. He snatches up the offending book and groans when he realizes she's found the only novel he's ever been embarrassed to own. It was some nonsense about vampires that Kerrianne had been obsessed with and he'd bought a copy in the hopes that it would create a shared interest with his daughter. He'd barely managed to make it past the first 20 pages before he'd abandoned it but he'd held onto the copy just in case his little girl came to visit.

River makes a noise and she's staring at him expectantly, eyebrows raised in question.

"My daughter suggested it. It's complete shite." He tosses the book back towards the shelf and there's a dull thud followed by a swish as a ball of paper hits his temple. He shoots River another glare and smooths out the note she'd aimed at his head.

 _Your what now?_

Little deaf witch can't pick up everything with her superpowers. He turns his head so she can see his lips as he speaks. "My daughter, Kerrianne. She's 16, lives in Belfast with her mother." A few days ago and it would have taken a gun to his head to reveal such a weak spot to the woman sitting in his living room but he feels like they've hit an odd level of trust.

River's eyes widen in understanding, she slides a finger over her heart and he knows she's mimicking the placement of the tattoo over his left pec. He nods, "Aye, my girl." He watches as River picks up the offending book and writes a note across one of the pages before tearing it out and tossing at him.

 _I figured the tat was for a very skilled Scottish hooker._

"Watch yer mouth." He growls out the words but they've got no bite and he can tell from the teasing smile on River's face it's all in good fun. There's another rip and another ball of paper lands near his hand.

 _Do you get to see her often?_

"Visited last year for a few weeks. Miss her though." River nods along looking thoughtful. Something occurs to him, "Do yeh have any family?" Her eyes slide to the side and he knows she's calculating. He practically sees the wheels turning as she determines how much she can tell him, how much she should tell him. She seems to come a decision and this time the ball of paper hits his forehead. He cuts her a look before smoothing out the page.

 _I have a massive extended family but I_ _'m an only child._

It's a vague set of information but he'll take it. He decides to take a risk, "What's yer real name?" Her eyebrows go up and he's shocked when she starts to write. Another rip and another ball flies across the room.

 _What_ _'s yours?_

He smiles. "You're a cheeky lass. How 'bout this. I'll tell yeh my real first name and yeh tell me yours." She tilts her head to the side and she's considering him closely. She writes and lets the note fly.

 _Just between us?_

"Aye." The word is too easy to say and the club doesn't even cross his mind. She crawls across the floor until she's sitting, her legs under her on the floor right next to the couch. She holds out her pinky to him and the look on her face is so deadly serious he can't help his booming laugh. "Seriously?" She nods, eyes dark. "Okay then, pinky swear." He locks his smallest finger with hers and she tugs at it, meeting his eyes before letting his hand free with a nod. He waits while she scribbles on another page and rips it out. She folds the sheet and then nods to him.

"Filip."

 _Sofia_

He stares at the page then looks back up to find her watching him a thoughtful look on her face. He doesn't know if she's underestimated him or if she knows exactly how much information she's given him but he feels a new piece of her puzzle click into place. It's an Italian name, it explains her dark coloring and the olive undertone to her skin. It also gives some credibility to the temper he'd gotten a glimpse of Friday night. It doesn't explain how she landed in hot water with either of the Cartels but if she's connected to the Cosa Nostra in any way it would go a long way towards explaining her general calm around career criminals.

"It's a pretty name." He takes far too long to speak and he can see the calculation on her face. This was an intentional clue. She shrugs and dips her head to write again.

 _Better than Bella_

He snorts a laugh at the reference to the now torn up novel and the momentary tension fades. She writes again.

 _No seriously, I knew a Bella in high school who could not keep her legs closed._

His laugh fills the living room. "Come to think of it I knew a Bella once too. She could do this thing with her tong—" He's cut off when she slaps the books down on his chest and he laughs again ignoring her disgusted look. "Yeh were asking for it." She rolls her eyes and leans her head against the arm of the couch.

"So, are yeh going to finish with the books then?" He nods back to the absolute disaster that is now his living room. Every volume he owns strewn across the floor in piles by letter. She shrugs and gives him a wicked look before pulling herself up and moving towards the bedroom. "River! Sofia!" He calls after her but it's no use. He looks over at the now empty shelves and groans. Cheeky fucking woman.

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 **Hope you liked that cute little scene. We're about to get into some really long and really serious parts of the story. I also promise the pace for both Chibs and River and the plot overall are about to pick up.**

 **Reviews are incredible but please just keep reading.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you to Angel897 and Robin.D for the reviews and thank you to everyone else you read, favorited, and followed. This chapter is going to set up a lot of the plot and I've been struggling with it but I figured it's time to just let it go and move on to more exciting things.**

 **I hope you all enjoy.**

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It's Sunday night and River is curled up in the big red recliner in Chibs' living room, a book open in her lap. The day had gone fast. After the morning conversation and exchange of real names she'd retreated into the bedroom. She'd expected Chibs to follow her and demand she finish organizing the books but he'd let her go and she'd managed to get an extra hour of sleep. She eventually got up and finished putting his shelves back in order while he worked on his bike in the dining room.

She'd finally drifted into the open room looking over the scattered metal parts littering the floor. Chibs ignored her until she'd passed him a note asking about building a bike inside but his shrugged reply had explained nothing. So she'd settled in to watch him. He didn't seem to mind and she'd been fascinated with his focus and the way he managed to fit all the pieces together following a map to completion only he could see.

Lunch time had gotten a little complicated. Chibs clearly wanted to keep working on the bike and River tried to ignore her hungry stomach but by 1pm she felt it gurgle and she knew the growling was audible when he'd looked up an apologetic expression on his face. After going months never knowing when the next meal was going to arrive her body was not a fan of missed opportunities for food. They'd cooked a frozen pizza and it made River nostalgic for the deep dish pizzas from home. She'd thought about telling Chibs as much but she'd held off. She wasn't sure she could keep sharing with him and stay strong.

At this point he has enough information to figure out who she really is, well, if he really tried. He's a smart man though and she knows he could pull it off if he wanted or needed to. Withholding details from here forward was really more about protecting him than herself. She knows he's kept several key pieces of information from his club for her and it could put him in danger.

She's done nothing but think about what happened in his dorm room Friday night for the last few days. She knows the promise he made about doing what he can to get her out of trouble is a dangerous one, potentially for them both. She peers over her book to watch him. He's back in the dining room working on the bike and from her perch on the far side of the open living space she can see him cleaning a complicated looking chunk of metal.

She should tell him everything. Well, she should tell him everything she knows which really isn't much to be honest. She knows she was snatched off a Vegas sidewalk about two months ago. She'd been headed back to her hotel after a very high stakes poker game and at first, she'd assumed the men in the van just wanted the approximately $300k she'd been carrying in her bag. They'd taken the money, sure, but then it'd become clear they knew exactly who she was.

She knows she spent about a week with that first set of men at a shitty little house outside Vegas and they'd left her mostly alone. They spoke a mix of English and Spanish and had clearly been informed that she could read lips because they turned their back whenever they spoke to each other. This and their use of her real name had made her stomach feel sour. There were only a few scenarios that would put her in this type of risk and none of them were good for her or the people she loved back home.

At the end of the first week she'd been loaded back into the van and they'd traveled. She'd had time to recognize the L.A. skyline as they'd moved her from the windowless van and into another shitty little house. At this point many of the original men had slowly started going missing and River found herself surrounded by jailers who didn't know to keep their backs turned. She knows she stayed in that house for almost a month, sleeping, pacing, and occasionally eating in the same small back bedroom.

The bright spot, if you could call it that, had been the only other woman in the house. River never learned her name but they'd sent her in occasionally to clean the room and after a few tries River had managed to convince the woman that it was in her best interest to occasionally let her out when the men were away. It had been during these brief exits from the bedroom that River picked up most of her information. First that she was being held by the Lobos Sonora Cartel, then that she'd been in captivity for 37 days, then that her disappearance was known and coincided with a potentially more important event.

That last one had been a shock. Staring down at her own image on the old paper. The shock had quickly turned into dread when she read what was available of the story. She can still see the printed words clear in her mind, _Sofia Rosalie Santorini missing since July 28th. Last seen the same night her father Piero Santorini, known Consigliere to the Chicago based DiForno mafia, was arrested with boss Nicco DiForno on charges of racketeering and obstruction of justice. A known mafia princess in Chicago, Sofia was visiting Las Vegas on vacation and_ _…_ The story had a new page number for continued reading but the rest of the section was missing and River had been left with only the snippet. It was enough.

A known mafia princess indeed. The knowledge that her father and Uncle Nic had been picked up the same night she was snatched off the Vegas street had dashed her last hopes of a pending rescue. In fact, it dashed her last hopes of going home. She knows there had been trouble brewing on the streets of Chicago for months. It was one of the reasons her father had suggested she take the trip out west. He'd packed her off with enough cash to keep her busy and a suggestion that she give the western leg of the pro-poker tour a try for the summer.

She'd only been kept in the L.A. house for another week after finding the paper before being moved to a new location further north. They'd stayed in a new house out in the woods for a few weeks and then moved again and then again. By this point she'd been held for over two months and she had been pretty sure she was on the verge of madness. She'd spoken to no one, they fed her erratically, and occasionally slapped her around. Still, if they'd wanted her dead there would have been no food at all, so she'd stayed calm and waited it out.

Things had shifted into high gear around day 70. She'd been sleeping on the floor of a flop house, god knows where, when a boot to her stomach woke her up. After the initial shock wore off she'd been left in a state of silent terror. Watching as the men who'd been holding her scrambled wildly around the room, glass flying, guns in hand. It had taken longer than it should have for her to realize that they were being shot at from outside the house and when it had finally sunk in she'd tried to run. Scrambling on her hands and knees over broken glass for cover.

Her reaction had come too late though. Most of the excitement had been over by the time she'd started moving and the men of Lobos Sonora did not take kindly to what they saw as an escape attempt in the midst of an attack. They'd beat her already frail body and chopped off her long dark curls with a blunt knife. After that they'd moved every few days, no longer staying in houses but in warehouses set up with guns like fortresses.

Two nights before the massacre at the Lodi warehouse River caught sight of an unattended cell phone. The first such mistake made by her captors in a long 3 months. Ignoring the risk she'd snatched the small device off the table and she'd been halfway through a text to a cousin when they'd caught her. The result was another beating and the pulled fingernails. She knows she will never forget the feel of the cold pliers at her fingertips as they ripped her flesh from her body.

Now here she is, a week later, comfortable in Chibs' living room knowing what happened but unable to fill in the why. She doesn't know if her father is still in jail or why he'd really been arrested in the first place. Racketeering was so generic, it could cover a range of crimes she is sure he's guilty of. She knows that he wouldn't have been picked up unless someone turned state's witness or evidence was planted, he's too powerful for anything less, and both options leave her dangerously exposed.

For all she knows she could get away from SAMCRO, make it home, and wind up dead in a Chicago gutter. As her father's only daughter, she's not heir to his position as Consigliere but she knows more than enough to earn her a bullet in the brain. Her poker career had often been a great laundering cover and her father had encouraged her interest for this reason. She is also well placed to point the finger at any one of her many "uncles" and "cousins" for an endless list of murders and RICO crimes. She'd become such a common site in their favorite bars and houses they'd generally forgotten she could read lips and she knows the details of far more than most women in the "family". Another skill her father had quietly encouraged.

She feels like her capture by the Lobos Sonora wasn't accidental but whether it was ordered by a rival Italian family, her own, or someone else she doesn't know. She doesn't know if they were supposed to get her out of the way to prevent WitPro or if it was someone trying to use her against her father. She doesn't know why Luis spared her life when she means nothing to the Galindo Cartel. She doesn't know how Luis knew her real name or why he'd passed her on to the motorcycle club. If she could get her hands on a computer she could piece it all together but Chibs doesn't have a computer in the house and she's pretty sure his shitty prepay doesn't have internet access.

The weight of the unknowns settles over her shoulders and River lets out a deep sigh. She's just about to look up from the book again when Chibs' hand appears under her nose. He's standing in front of her, watching her face carefully as he wipes his grease covered hands on a rag.

"Yeh want dinner?" He looks tired and she wonders if he was doing his own hard thinking while she was silently sorting through her last few months. She shrugs and she realizes this is the wrong move because he crouches down so he's on her eye level. "Yeh okay lass?" He's watching her intently.

She drops her eyes back to her book. She is exhausted and after finally allowing herself to think everything through she's feeling nauseas at all the possibilities. She wonders if he realizes how much effort it takes to always read his lips, to have to write everything out instead of speaking her native language. She looks back up to his face and the look of concern in his eyes is so genuine she feels bad for the ill thoughts. He really has been trying, more than anyone else in the last few months. Hell, more than some uncles and cousins who have known her since birth.

She reaches over grabbing the pen and paper from the table by the chair. Balancing the notepad on the book she writes.

 _I_ _'m tired. Not too hungry._

He reads the note and raises and eyebrow. "That's a first." He seems to think for a moment. "How about I order yeh something anyways. I have an idea." She shrugs, and he takes it as agreement because he gets up and wanders off.

She looks back down at the book and the pages swim before her eyes. She can feel the tears hovering just on the edge of her vision and she forces them back. She's got to keep her head in the game. She can't fall apart, there's no one to pick up the pieces if she does.

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 **More will be coming soon.**

 **We're also quickly approaching a time when this story may need to transition to an M rating for a number of reasons. I can either bump the rating or I can start a new story that will hold the "missing scenes" at an M rating. I've done both in the past but I figured I would see if there are any opinions out there, let me know in the comments if you have a preference.**

 **Reviews of any kind are always welcome. Thank for reading!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks to ks, Angel897, Lenora, and Robin.D for the reviews. Thank you to everyone else who read, followed or favorited. This will be the last chapter before we jump up to an M rating and honestly this chapter is on the line. If you're uncomfortable with that my apologies.**

 **Enjoy.**

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Chibs finishes ordering dinner and drops his prepay on the bed, moving into the bathroom to start the shower. He sheds his clothes while the water warms up. He hopes the food perks River up. The look on her face just before he'd caught her attention had been concerning. In the last few days he's seen her stone cold, amused, flirty, mad, and scared but he doesn't think he's seen her look worried. Not truly worried the way she'd looked sitting in his big red recliner, her legs pulled up under her body. She'd looked small and lost. She was usually a tower of confidence, real or feigned he doesn't know.

The last week was a mess of ups and downs. He feels like they're trapped in a cycle where only one of them can stand strong at a time. Either she's exploding in a mess of sign language and anger or he's struggling to figure out how to walk the tightrope that is the MC. It's not a bad thing, this give and take, but he can feel the storm that's been swirling on the horizon picking up speed and he knows they won't make it out without their own tethers. He'd told her to keep her head in the game and he needs to do the same.

Steam has started to roll out of the shower and he sheds his boxers stepping under the stream of hot water, rolling his shoulders. He loves the water pressure at his house. He lets the pounding heat fall on his back and tries to push River from his mind, he needs to get his own shit right if he's going to help her the way he promised.

Things are not going well for SAMCRO and Chibs can practically see the fractures building. It scares him that it's gotten bad enough for River to pick up on it after only a short conversation with a few of the boys outside the clubhouse. Then again, the little witch did have a way of reading people that Chibs had never seen before. If her skills of perception are as good as he thinks they are then he can think of several powerful men who would love to add her to their ranks. She would have been a fucking golden asset during his years with the RIRA when everything was actually said in-between what was said out loud.

Running his hands through his wet hair and Chibs realizes her skill could also be just another weakness. Her ability to read lips and pick up on tells would make her valuable to most criminal groups and Clay was no exception to that. Combined with Chibs' suspicions about her possible Italian connection and she might actually be in more danger than he'd originally thought. If she plays the cards right though, fucking christ, she could end up a force to be reckoned with.

One problem at a time though. First he needs to figure out the club shite and get things right there. If there's bigger trouble coming from any direction SAMCRO won't make through unless they're united and right now they are most certainly not. So he needs to get cleaned up, get some food in the girl, right her head space, and deal with the home-front.

He thinks she might be able to help him there. He'd been sorting through it while he tinkered with that damn bike all afternoon. He knows that things with Clay and Jax are about to come to a head and when they do Chibs knows he'll come down on Jax's side of things. He may have tried to walk the tightrope but when it comes down to it Jax is the one looking to take the club towards a reasonable future. Chibs knows the younger man has been through his share of ups and downs but long term Clay isn't going to do anything good for the majority. Clay is out for Clay and Chibs has never liked to follow selfish leaders.

River's part comes in finding out where the rest of the brothers will land. If she can figure out that Tig is waffling after a smoke break Chibs feels like she should be able to sort out the rest of the boys in a day or two. The next issue had been how to get her around the lads but that part actually ended up being quite simple. Chibs had missed work the week before to guard her but now that she'd made an appearance at the clubhouse for church it's not a stretch to bring her to the garage for his shift tomorrow. He just has to get her on board. He has a feeling she's not a fan of being used and that is exactly what he's going to try and do. Use her.

The pounding water has worked out the tension in his back while he thought and now that he's relaxed and has a bit of a plan his mind drifts. Under the hot water, a week of celibacy behind him, he can't really help it when he starts to think about Friday night. He lets himself remember the way he'd been able to see down her shirt at the clubhouse bar. It'd been a quick glance but it was enough for him to get a glimpse of the soft swell of her breasts. Breasts he knows will probably grow as she gains back missing weight.

There's a twitch between his legs and he reaches down to stroke himself his mind jumping forward to his dorm room later that night. He pulls up the image of her caught against him, her cheeks flushed from anger, her eyes bright with booze and emotion. He can feel her wrists caught up in one of his hands and she'd been pressed up against him so tight he'd been able feel her breasts rise and fall against his chest with every breath.

He's fully hard now and stroking himself rhythmically, his free hand slams against the shower wall for support and he's thinking about the feel of her hip under his hand. The skin over her jeans had been impossibly smooth and her lips had been soft pink. He'd wanted to kiss her but thought better of it, pulling her against his chest instead. He can remember how soft her short hair was, twisted up in his hand, and they way it felt when her entire body relaxed against him. Then the sight of her in just a shirt and panties crawling into the bed. He tugs at himself harder.

If he'd thought that first night lying next to her in the little clubhouse bed and keeping his hands to himself had been hard it had nothing on last night when she'd saved him from another night on the couch. Her hand pulling him towards his own fucking bedroom and he'd watched her little ass bounce in front of him for every second of the short walk. His hand picks up speed and he can feel release just around the corner.

He'd laid there impossibly aware of her long legs and that tight little ass just on the other side of the mattress. All he'd needed to do was reach across the bed and he could have had a hand on one of those breasts, figured out if they could fill his palm. It would have been easy after that to pull her towards him and then he could have found out if she makes those little noises in her throat out of something other than annoyance. He just knows he could get her to make that little squeak of impatience he's heard so much recently— his release comes with a groan and a flood of sticky heat over his hand, he presses his forehead into the cold tile of the shower wall.

Well, wanking to images of the girl like a school boy certainly wasn't keeping his head in the game but, jesus, he couldn't help himself. He can only bend so far before he breaks and a week basically trapped in a house with her, surrounded by those wicked little smiles had been hard enough. When he adds in the new element of sharing a bed it's all too much, storm brewing or not. He shifts into the spray of water, cleaning himself up. At a minimum this respite might keep him from embarrassing himself tonight.

He finishes the rest of his shower quickly and tugs on his jeans and a t-shirt just in time for the doorbell to ring. Grabbing his wallet off the counter he rushes to get the door with dripping hair. He throws a glance at River and she's still curled up in the big chair, book on her lap but he's pretty sure she hasn't turned the page while he's been gone. He drops the food on the coffee table and waves a hand to get her attention.

"Dinner is here lass." She glances to the bag behind him and then back with a shrug. Fine, more for him.

She'd told him she loves Italian food so he'd taken a guess about what to order. He throws himself down on the couch and starts to unpack the hot containers. He sees her shift out of corner of his eye when he opens the first take-out lid. He sets the round container of lasagna aside and pulls out the second one of chicken piccata. He makes it to the third, which is a very nice looking alfredo before she closes the book and moves across the room to sit on the floor next to the table.

"Yeh decided you're hungry then?" She shrugs again but her face is tight and he rolls his eyes, holding out a fork. She snatches it. "Uh huh"

He expects her to inhale the food like usual but instead she grabs the container of lasagna and holds it for a minute before she sets it back down and he wonders if he's mis-stepped and ordered the wrong thing. He digs into the alfredo and it's actually not bad. Not the best he's ever had but up there for sure. He'd taken a chance on pasta from a place that he usually only uses for pizza. He takes another bite. A soft noise pulls his attention from the food and he looks up just in time to see River swipe at her eyes with a hoodie covered arm.

"Oh christ." She doesn't look at him, her palms pressed against her eyes, trying to hold in the tears even as her shoulders start to shake. He has a moment of panic unsure of what to do before he decides to just go with instinct. Leaning forward he gets his hands under her upper arms and pulls her up. She comes willingly, letting him lift her bodily on to the couch. He tugs her hands away from her face to find her red eyed, tears sliding out from behind closed lids.

"What is this then?" He knows she didn't get the question from his lips. There's no way she can read his mouth through those watery eyes. "Okay then. It's okay." He tugs her into his chest and she offers no resistance, pressing her face into his shirt. It's like the move gave her permission to really let it out and she lets out a muffled

sob, her body wracked with the effort. He puts a heavy hand on her back and pulls her closer, rubbing in soft circles. She lets out another sob into his chest.

"I would have expected this over the whole prisoner of a motorcycle club thing not lasagna." He knows she can't hear him or read his lips in this position but he feels out of his element and talking to the air helps. "Yeh've been a strong lass. We all know it." One of her hands tangles in his shirt and she moves closer until she's practically in his lap. "I imagine this has been building for a while huh? Yeh've been a good girl. It's okay."

It's several minutes before she seems to cry herself out, finally settling into quiet hiccups. It's another minute before she pulls her face away from his chest wiping at her eyes and nose with the sleeve of a sweatshirt, he only now notices, is still the one he'd draped over days before. Her eyes are red and her short hair is sticking up in all directions from the way he'd tangled one hand in it. She looks desperately pretty.

"Yeh could have just said yeh didn't want Italian." The terrible joke serves it's purpose and she lets out a wet huff of air. Something he's come to learn is her version of a half laugh. She looks around and he catches on leaning them both forward until she can snag the pad and pen off the table. She shifts just enough to let her write without moving off his lap.

 _I_ _'m sorry._

Rather than look up at him like usual she holds out the pen and he takes it shifting to get his hand free to write back.

 _Okay now?_

She nods and takes the pen back.

 _That_ _'s the first time I've cried since this all started._

Part of him feels like he's taking advantage of a vulnerable situation but he does it anyways, taking the pen back to write.

 _How long ago was that?_

There's no hesitation before she answers.

 _86 days._

The arm still wrapped around her tightens involuntarily as he reads the number. He takes a deep breath and takes the pen.

 _86 days since what?_

If they're going to talk about this he wants to be very clear. Is it 86 days she's been working for the Cartel? 86 days since she made a bad decision? 86 days since what? She takes the pen back.

 _I was kidnapped off the Vegas strip on July 28th, Lobos Sonora_

He nods along before writing back.

 _Because you_ _'re Cosa Nostra._

He feels a shiver go through her when he finishes writing the word and he feels rather than sees her nod against his chest. He puts the pen back to paper.

 _What family?_

She won't take the pen from him and he looks down to see her staring up at him her eyes impossibly wide. He can read it all on her face. It's a big family and it could bring a hammer down on his little club, one they may not survive. He feels something dangerous coil up in his chest and he shoves the pen at her roughly. She puts it to paper with a shaking hand.

 _Sofia Santorini, Piero Santorini, Nicco DiForno_

He realizes the first name must be hers and the second is probably a father or brother, her male tie to the organization. The last name he absolutely recognizes. Nic DiForno is the head of the entire Chicago Outfit and the sixth member of the famed Mafia Commission. His reach is impossibly large. The DiForno family represented all Italian organized crime from Chicago to the Pacific at a national level. Chibs is also distantly aware that both DiForno and his Consigliere had been picked up a few months ago and were still engaged in a very public legal battle over some suspicious evidence. Chibs is only aware of it because a shake up a few months ago had inspired the L.A. Italians to up their gun order over some upheaval while their boss was away.

This is a level of organized crime that SAMCRO can't touch. If River's connection is high enough in the ranks they could be talking total wipe out. If her family had ordered her kidnapping the MC would be done for harboring her. If her family was looking for her the MC could get wiped out for having her before they have a chance to explain.

He picks up the pen and taps her name then points to his face, "This is yeh?" she nods. He taps the second name, "This is yer da?" she nods again. He lets out a deep breath. "Who is yer da to the family?" She takes the pen back.

 _DiForno_ _'s Consigliere_

Chibs runs his hand through his hair and sighs. This was too big. Her father the number two of one of the most powerful mob bosses in the country. He couldn't keep this from his brothers but maybe he could control the message to keep them all from getting swallowed whole.

"I have to tell the lads." He hates the way her eyes widen and she shoots off his body so quickly the pad falls from his lap on to the floor. "I have to River. This could get us all killed. They need to know what they're dealing with." She ducks to pick up the pad and pen.

 _Jax. We_ _'ll tell Jax._

She underlines the we part a few times and passes it to him. He considers the idea. The VP would love to get the information first since it puts Clay in a bad light and it did make sense to get the story checked. Technically she's been missing almost three months and they haven't found her yet what's another few days. Finally, Chibs nods and he watches her shoulders sag.

"I need a favor though." He throws it out there as an after-thought. He'll tell only Jax per her request but he needs her to use her people skills. She raises an eye brow and puts pen to paper.

 _Quid pro quo?_

He hates that term. "Nah darlin', it's not like that. I was going to ask anyways." She nods and writes.

 _Head in the game right?_

"Yea, lass." He gives her a small smile. "Head in the game." He can't help the way he reaches out for her and he feels relief when she comes back to his side of the couch, willingly, her body melting into his side. Something about her pressed up against him makes him feel dangerous and capable of anything. He tucks his chin in so she can see his face, "Yeh okay, really?" she nods.

"Eat yer food then and I'll tell yeh about it after dinner." She nods and picks up the now room temperature lasagna digging in with most of her usual speed.

He feels like he's just made a deal with the devil and he doesn't care.

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 **It's getting real for River and MC. More will be coming soon.**

 **Quick note: Cosa Nostra is the term the mob uses internally to refer to the family.**

 **Reviews are very much appreciated and really do help keep me motivated!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Soo, it's been a while. Sorry about that.**

 **This is the first of a 2 part update and the first chapter in this story now that it is rated M. Thank you to nanarosedarkness, vampirelover17, Lenora, Robin.D, tellmesweetlittlelies, ks, angel897, and vilevillain. Another thank you to everyone who read, followed, and favorited. You are all amazing and I'm sorry I kept you waiting.**

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It's hours later when Chibs is woken by the soft noise. His eyes open instantly and he looks over at the nightstand to take in the time. Three in the morning. It'd only been a few hours since they'd finished discussing his "favor" for the next day and River drifted into the bedroom. He'd followed and gotten into the bed while she took a shower. He'd been asleep before she came out of the bathroom.

The soft noise comes again and he turns his head to look over at her. She's spread out on her back safely on the other side of the king size bed, one hand tucked up her pillow, the other folded across her stomach. Even in the muted darkness of the bedroom he can see her eyes are closed tight, her face scrunched up, eyelids twitching wildly while she dreams.

Bad dreams, he knows a thing or two about nightmares and he fights the instinct to reach out and wake her up or offer physical comfort. If his shower wank earlier in the evening is anything to go by this whole bed sharing situation is tenuous at best and he really doesn't want to test his willpower by touching her. Even as the thought crosses his mind she lets out another little whimper and his fingers twitch.

He's trying to figure out how best to wake her when she lets out a little groan and the hand over her stomach tightens in the blankets. He watches fascinated as her body shifts, her thighs rubbing together under the thin comforter and her face smooths out, lips parting. His look of concern fades into a grin. Oh, so she's having a nice dream then. She shifts again, eyes still closed tight and the sheet slips from her chest. He can just see her erect nipples through the t-shirt she's wearing. A very nice dream then. Good for her, he thinks, she deserves to get out of her own head a bit.

Another soft noise comes from her throat and he almost groans in reply. It doesn't really matter what she deserves if she keeps this up he's never going to get back to sleep. He can already feel the heat pooling deep in his stomach and he's half hard under the covers. Maybe he can sneak out of bed and make it to the couch. It'll be easy to take care of his problem on his own once he's not trapped in the bed next to the clearly aroused River.

He shifts to get up, planting a hand between them for leverage to sit and the movement bounces the mattress just enough. There's a hiss from her and his head snaps to the side. Her eyes are open wide and liquid dark, her full lips parted just a bit. She's watching him and he's mesmerized as her little pink tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip. She moves carefully and he feels time slow as the hand under her pillow emerges and reaches across the space between them to land on top of his. Her fingers are warm and she pulls his hand towards her, keeping his palm flat against the cool sheets as she slides his fingertips to her side.

Her dark eyes stay locked on his as she slides their joined hands up the side of her chest and over until his palm settles heavily on her breast. His whole body is tense as she pulls her hand away and tucks it back under the pillow. He raises an eyebrow in question and she just stares back. It seems like all the permission he's going to get so he shifts onto his side for a better angle before cupping her breast carefully. She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and he uses his fingers to find her nipple through the cloth of her shirt, tweaking it gently. She lets out a low gasp and her eyes slam shut.

He slides his palm down her front, careful not to put pressure on her still healing ribs, until he finds the hem of the shirt and his fingers twist in the fabric. He wants to hear it— he traces his fingers across the soft skin of her stomach just below the shirt and there it is— that little noise of impatience from the back of her throat. He didn't realize it would be so easy. He's rock hard and he slides his full hand under the shirt, skimming the rough elastic bandage still wrapped around most of her middle to protect her ribs. He doesn't stop his movement until his fingers hit her bare breast and he was right, she fills his palm completely.

He cups her breast with a rough hand, catching the tight bud of her nipple between his knuckles and rolls his fingers in a practiced move. Her hips lift from the bed and another soft noise escapes her mouth through wet lips. It's really all his self-control can handle and he moves quickly, sliding his hand out from her shirt. He pulls her bodily across the bed, tugging her into place until her back is settled against his front. With one arm tucked under her neck he slides a hand down the front of her top to land back on bare skin.

His free hand goes for her hip and he guide her back until she's tucked into him. He knows the moment she feels him, a steel rod against her back, from the way she rocks against him pushing up until her little ass is pressed into his hips. Another little noise from her throat and she shifts, her thighs moving against him. His length slides out of the slit in his boxers from the action and she moves again until he feels her taut thighs settle around him. He can feel the slick fabric of her panties against the bare skin of his shaft and the realization that she's already soaking wet forces a rumble through his chest.

The hand on her hip slides forward settling across her flat stomach he holds her in tight in place. He pinches at her nipple as he rocks his hips against her sliding himself back and forth between her thighs. He's already dripping precum and it combines with her wetness to make her skin slick. He feels one of her hands move down to push at his fingers on her stomach. A pleading noise and she's trying to push his hand down between her legs. It's more than enough to get him moving and he wastes no time sliding under the soft fabric between her legs.

His fingers dance over a patch of curls and then sink through her folds into the impossibly wet heat between her legs. She's panting against the arm he still has tucked under her head and when he finds her clit her hips surge forward seeking out more friction. It's been awhile since he's done anything with a woman other than a fuck or push her to her knees but with River panting against him the old tricks come back quickly.

He rolls her nipple between his knuckles again with one hand and pushes a finger up into her deep heat with the other. She's breathing in short bursts through her nose and her hips drive down trying to find more. She shifts her thighs and the friction on his hard length is incredible. He adds another finger and finds her slick and tight. His thumb settles over her clit and he sets to rubbing careful circles over the bud as his fingers move rhythmically between her legs. His hips start to move in time and her groan is met by one of his own as his foreskin is pulled back, the more sensitive head of his member exposed to the heated friction of her thighs.

He tucks his chin in to look down and finds her watching him through half lidded eyes over her shoulder. Her mouth is open and she's panting in time to their combined movements. He twists her nipple roughly and her eyes slam shut, her walls fluttering around the fingers between her legs. He can tell she's close, her body tight against him, hovering just on the edge of release. He picks up the speed of his hand, his fingers pumping, while his thumbs tightens down on her clit. Her hips tap against his, matching him thrust for thrust and he when he feels her thighs tighten he knows she won't make it much longer.

He's proven right moments later when her hips still mid-thrust. She buries her face against his arm and he can feel her wet lips moving against his skin. Her whole body goes tight, thighs clamping down around him painfully. He stills the fingers between her legs, curling them up deep into her body and he pushes down hard on her clit with his rough thumb. He feels her come undone around his hand, her teeth sinking into his inner arm as she lets loose a noise high in her throat.

They don't move for a long time afterward. Her body pulled up tight against him, his face buried in her neck. He can still feel his need tight between them but it feels too soon or too quiet now to chase his own release so he just breathes long and slow against her back trying to calm himself. She is the one to finally break the moment. Pulling her face off his arm and lifting one leg to release his now softening length. He expects her to move towards the edge of the bed but instead she rolls over. until she's facing him her dark eyes searching his face. She seems to find what she needs there because rather than move away she leans forward to press her face into his chest, one leg sliding over his hip.

He slides an arm around her, rolling them both until he's on his back and she's tucked into his side. Her head is settled on his chest and her leg settled low over his stomach. He reaches down to tuck himself back into his boxers before settling the hand on her thigh. Her fingers are tracing the dollar bill tattooed across chest and without looking up she lets out a long sigh.

He doesn't have to see her face to know what she means. He's having the same thoughts. The events of the last few minutes will change things. It'll make them more complicated and messier than they would have been if they'd kept their hands to themselves. To Chibs though, almost sated and with her hot little body tucked against him, it's a problem for the morning light.

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 **I hope you enjoyed.**

 **Reviews are always welcome.**


	21. Chapter 21

**This is part 2 of a two part update. Enjoy.**

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It's Monday afternoon at Teller Morrow Automotive and River is perched on top of an old red standing toolbox. When Chibs had explained his favor the night before she'd seen no reason to refuse. He'd done a lot for her in the last week and if he felt like he needed a better read on his brothers to get things sorted it doesn't bother her to watch and share. Honestly, the situation is so much like home it almost feels normal.

She'd been about seven when her father realized his deaf daughter could be more of an asset than he'd expected. He'd brought her with him to discuss business with an uncle and afterward over pizza River signed to her father the other man looked nervous. The comment had been made in childlike ignorance but Piero Santorini didn't get to his position in life by ignoring good intel. He'd questioned her carefully about why she felt zio Angelo was nervous. She'd explained with clumsy signs, still young, the way her zio kept glancing towards his file cabinet and her father took the info to the bank.

It had only taken Piero a moment to make the call that led to a search and the discovery of paperwork proving Angelo was skimming money. River had never seen that Uncle Angelo again but another Angelo had shown up not long after and she'd never asked what happened to the first. It was the beginning of her side work for her father. She was about 15 before she realized what was really happening and why her father brought her to so many of his meetings. Probably too old, but then she'd always thought better of her dad than she should considering.

She despises the term mafia princess but she knows it's not far from the truth. Born to Piero late in life, River's mother died when she was two in a Chicago street shootout during a territory war. Her father and his boss Nic DiForno had emerged from that conflict victorious and taken over the rest of the city and then the entire outfit. Left with a busy life and a very small deaf daughter, Piero had done his best. Hiring skilled nannies, tutors, and sending River to the most prestigious schools available. She'd been lucky in her life and schooling, not many of her deaf peers had a supportive immediate family and private tutors to set them up for successful communication in a hearing world.

Naturally able to read a room, learning poker had been a logical step and River had studied at her father's knee during long, cigar smoke filled sessions in the back rooms of restaurants and night clubs. Being a girl, there was no expectation that River would take over any part of the family business, that was an absolute but she was a pretty child and her lack of hearing often meant the men forgot she existed. By the time her father realized what she was picking up when she tagged along it was too late to take any of it back. Her father had never remarried and with no forthcoming sons to take up his skills he'd passed on as much as he could to his little girl. It was unconventional but it worked for them.

Now, using the skills she's honed over years in the high-power games of Italian organized crime River feels like watching the bikers of SAMCRO is like going back to kindergarten. These men are not used to hiding their tells or navigating complicated political undercurrents. It's not that their problems are uncomplicated, it's that they are often problems which can be addressed head on and River feels like a honed scalpel in a room full of hammers.

She'd arrived at the garage on the back of Chibs' bike that morning and she'd watched the rest of the brothers filter in over the next hour. She'd brought a book as an easy cover and Chibs set her up with a pack of cigs in a corner of the garage where her back was against a wall and she could see the entire lot and every bay. It also made it simple for them to watch her, she was still technically a prisoner. For the most part though the men were easy.

Bobby was nervous and every time someone mentioned Clay he glanced to his bike. Bobby is a runner but at the same time River can see his easy affection for the other men shining through. He's a man torn but not someone on the verge of creating new conflict. If anything, she could see him fading away to avoid the brewing storm Chibs spoke about the night before.

Tig is lost. She'd already pegged him for it but it's more obvious now. When Clay pulled into the lot around noon and headed towards the clubhouse without so much as a glance for the garage Tig had gone tense. He'd spent the next hour or so constantly on edge, torn between defeat and anger, always throwing glances towards the building across the way. She feels like if Tig stirs up trouble it will be unintentional. The risk of being a hammer in a world where not everything is a nail.

Opie had shown up shortly after Clay looking harassed but River has a feeling it is related to something away from the club. He spends less time fixing cars and more checking his phone repeatedly as though expecting a call. She catches the name Lyla on his lips and assumes he has lady troubles.

Jax is the same as the first night she'd encountered him, determined. She can see it in his eyes and the set of his shoulders. She's not sure what he's determined to do but she knows he is a man with a plan. River wishes she could figure out what plan he's so stuck on but she reads body language not minds so she lets it go, for now. She'd picked up some indications of home problems from him too but they were certainly further away than Opie's and she vaguely remembers someone mentioning his fiance, Tara, at the Friday night party.

For the most part the brothers are as expected. She'll share these details with Chibs but she doesn't know that they'll help. There are two though that she's worried about. as she turns the page in her book without reading it she lets her eyes drift to the first.

Chibs had introduced the man that morning as Happy and River has no idea what to make of the massive and very quiet hispanic man. He's got a stone face to rival her own and so far she's seen almost nothing that would give away his thoughts in his body language. She knows with enough time she could figure him out but it's not going to happen in a day. She would love to play a few hands of poker against him though. He's got a million-dollar poker face and she'd enjoy figuring him out at the table.

She catches movement out of the corner of her eye and it's the second problem brother picking up a dropped wrench. Juice was nervous. Not the kind of nerves that came from doing an unfamiliar job but the kind of nervous River had recognized in the first Uncle Angelo. She'd noticed Juice early in the day and kept a tight eye on him to confirm her suspicions. Part of her hoped she'd find something to alleviate her worries but the more she watches him the more she is certain the young man is hiding something, something big.

She puts the book down, lighting a cigarette as she watches Chibs approach the guilty brother. She blows out a line of smoke narrowing her eyes as Juice laughs at something from the Scot. The laugh never reaches Juice's eyes and his hand slides up rubbing along his mowhawk in discomfort. He's hiding something large. There's fear in his posture and a tightness around his mouth that River knows indicates the desire to confess but the inability to get the words out.

A betrayal from Juice would hit Chibs hard. She's gotten the impression the Scot is particularly fond of the younger man and she hates the idea that she now has to share information that will hurt her — what was Chibs to her — jailer, keeper, lover. The night before had been intense, needed, unintentional. River's really not sure.

First, she'd cried all over the man, shared her dangerous family connections, and then basically used him to get off. She can still conjure the feeling of his rough hands on her body if she tries. They seemed to be on the same page though about leaving it in the bedroom where it belongs. When she'd woken up this morning he'd already been in the shower and rather than wait her turn she'd used the second shower down the hall. There'd been no discussion and that was fine with her. She's still 15% sure it's all Stockholm Syndrome.

She's pulled out her memory when a large tan hand snatches the cigarette straight from her mouth. Looking up she finds the cold eyes of Happy staring down at her, the smoke now tucked into the corner of his lips.

"I hear you took half the club to the bank Friday night." He's considerate enough to remove the cigarette and look into her face as he talks. She shrugs pulling out another cig from the pack at her side. She's not going to risk trying to get the original back. "Humble too?" Happy lets a slow smile slide into place as he speaks.

Her eyes slide the room and she manages to catch the end of something from Bobby at the far side of the garage "be… grand on the table…" The men's heads all turn and she follows their gaze. She knows Tig is talking but his back is to her so she gets none of it and when they all start laughing she just smiles along. She hates being deaf just a little bit at times like this. When she can't keep up with the conversation. There's nothing to do but ride the wave and hope someone explains.

When she'd been little her father had looked into the, then experimental, cochlear implant. She remembers the doctor who brought it up and watching her father nod along with the idea while the doctor explained that the device could give her a "normal" life.

Her father had taken her for gelato afterward and asked her if she wanted to be able to hear. She'd shrugged, she was eight and at the time she was constantly surrounded by a nanny, tutors, and family who signed. Hearing didn't seem like a big deal. Piero had told her that being deaf was hard but it made her unique and strong. "I'll love you no matter what _bambolina,_ _"_ he'd said, "if you want this we can do it but I think deaf will teach you to be strong. Strong may be better than normal one day." Now she knows that her father's motives might have been a little selfish but he was still right. Strong had ended up being better than normal.

She's again pulled from her thoughts, this time by Chibs' hand waved near her face. She looks up to find him looking at her, shifting from foot to foot, an expectant looking Jax standing a few feet away waiting. The moment of truth she realizes. Time to tell the VP her story.

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 **Reviews are always very welcome. More soon!**


	22. Chapter 22

**A big thank you to angel897, Robin.D, Lenora, lilyann17, and Ashmo21 for the reviews on the last chapter. I also want to thank everyone who has read and followed and favorited. I know I've been slow recently but there is more coming. Enjoy.**

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Chibs has had a pretty productive day. He got up early, making sure to be in the shower before River was awake. He did not want to stall out in a conversation over the events of the previous night and he had no idea how she would carry things. Turns out he had nothing to worry about. He came out of the bathroom to the sound of the guest shower running and by the time he was in the kitchen waiting on the kettle to boil for tea she was dressed and ready to go.

She'd had no complaints about watching the boys at the shop and he'd gotten her set up with a book and enough cigarettes to keep her occupied. The rest of the morning had been typical. He'd gotten stuck with a particularly stubborn car in his bay but about two hours in he'd figured out the problem and gotten it sorted no thanks to Juice. The boy was a mess and if he dropped another tool Chibs was going to tape them to his hands.

Juice's proximity had made it easier to ask about the phone River requested. Juice had raised his eyes at the term air-gapped and muttered something about everyone being a spy these days but he'd agreed to get the hardware. Chibs didn't have much patience for the younger man so he'd just shrugged off the tone and moved on.

The day hadn't started to go south until Jax pulled into the lot and everything Chibs needed to share started to weigh him down. He'd pushed it off for a few hours while he wrapped up his second car of the day but by early afternoon there was a tight knot of muscle between his shoulders. Taking advantage of the garage wide joke about River's poker success as cover Chibs pulled Jax aside and ask for a quiet moment.

Now he's following his VP towards the back door of the clubhouse, River trailing along behind them. Jax leads them into the largest of the dorm rooms and settles on the edge of the bed. Chibs nods River to the room's only chair and leans back against the desk, stretching out his legs.

"Yeh can see both us from there?" Chibs makes sure River is looking when he speaks and waits for her nod. "Yeh got a pen?" She tugs a notepad out of the inside pocket of her leather and he watches as she balances it on her book so she can write.

"What's this about?" Jax is looking back and forth between the two of them an uneasy smile playing on his lips. Chibs wonders for a moment how to start the conversation. Maybe best just to get it out.

"Got the lass' real name out of her last night. It's not good." Jax sits up straighter at these words, his eyes flicking to River, and Chibs continues, "I'm coming to yeh first because all this shite doesn't seem to be her fault and I was hopin' calmer heads could prevail, if yeh catch my drift." Jax lets out an annoyed huff.

"Not a deaf, female, Lobos Sonora shot caller then?" The words are dripping with sarcasm as they leave Jax's mouth and Chibs shakes his head. "Fucking figures." Anger follows the sarcasm and Chibs waits while his VP tears a hand through his hair before speaking again.

"Juicy was right, she ain't Mexican." Chibs glances to River to make sure she's still picking everything up and is surprised to find her whole body focused on Jax.

"What are we talking about here?" Jax seems to have caught on to River's fascination and is returning her stare. The two of them in tune with each other scares Chibs a little. Combine Jax's ability to think ten steps ahead and her perception, they would be fucking formidable.

"Italian." Chibs spits the word and continues, "Big Italian Jackie-boy. Her father makes every gangster yeh've ever met look small time." Jax tears his eyes away from River.

"What's her name?" Chibs sucks his teeth on the question. This is the part he was the torn about. He can't take it back once it's out there but he doesn't see a way around it.

"It's not her name yeh'll be wanting. It's the name of her da's boss. Nic DiForno." A hail mary to put off the inevitable. Chibs can see the boy's mind whirling as he searches for references and he knows the moment the facts settle into place. Jax lets out a long slow breath.

"Jesus. How high up is her connection?" Chibs nods, Jax knew how this worked. Sometimes Chibs wonders if he doesn't get it more than Clay.

"He da is Piero Santorini, DiForno's consigliere. They were both picked up a few months ago, same time the lass was scooped up by brown. That's our real problem." Chibs feels the knot between his shoulders tighten as he lays it all out. Something about saying it out loud makes it worse. "Dunno why she was picked up by Lobos or if Galindo knows but it puts us in a tight spot."

"Jesus." Jax takes a deep breath and turns back to River. This was the part Chibs was most worried about. The VP was going to want answers Chibs has no idea if she's going to give them, he has no idea if he wants to hear them. "Did Luis know?" Jax speaks slowly for her benefit and she moves the pen to write.

 _Know what?_

Chibs holds in his groan of frustration. The woman was a master of misdirection. Jax seems to have similar thoughts because his tone is less patient when he speaks again. "Did he know who you were the night we picked you up?" Her answer comes quickly.

 _Yes_

That surprises even Chibs and Jax speaks before he can. "Do you know why they were holding you?" Again, a quick answer.

 _No_

"Were you working for Lobos Sonora?" Jax is getting to rhythm. She writes for longer this time.

 _No, they_ _'d had me for months before that night moving from location to location._

She pauses long enough for them to read and then continues with additional unrequested information.

 _It was Lobos, not Luis that beat me up._

Jax nods and leans back a bit and lets out a breath. It's the first sign Chibs sees that they've made the right move. Giving Jax testimony to a possible betrayal from their hated business partners, the dangerous unknown is what he'll do with the information. The VP seems to be trying to figure out the same thing and he takes a long moment before leaning forward again.

"Is the family after you? Or someone else?" It's the first question that has River looking uncomfortable and Chibs can see her uncertainty as she moves the pen.

 _I don_ _'t know. I was in Vegas to get away from some issues in Chicago. I don't know what happened._

There's a long pause as they both read and then she takes a deep breath and starts writing again.

 _There_ _'s a way I can find out though._

"How?" Jax breaths out the word and she writes immediately.

 _I need access to the internet._

Jax nods and leans back in his chair looking at Chibs for a moment and then he moves off the bed and wraps an arm around his shoulders turning them so they their backs are to River's searching eyes.

"Do you trust her?" Jax's voice is quiet even though there's no need.

"Aye" The reply comes without hesitation. Chibs knows she's not telling them the whole story. She may be able to read everyone but he's gotten pretty good at reading her and he knows there's more to this entire thing. He also knows she's not going to spill it unless they ask the right questions. They may have a standing truce but she's a survivor first and foremost and she's going to watch her own back. He's almost proud.

"Do you trust her with your life? That's what this could be." Jax is watching his face and Chibs meets his eyes before he replies.

"I trust her with all our lives. Good thing too, 'cause if the goombahs find out we have her—" He trails off and slides his thumb across his neck. Jax nods.

"Good enough, for now. This stays in this room until she gets to a computer and we know more." Chibs nods along and Jax releases him. Turning back to River the VP speaks again, "You guys should come for dinner tonight. Tara has a laptop you can use. Plus, she's a better cook than this asshole."

The joke is a clear sign that the meeting is over and River spares Jax a tight smile and a nod. Chibs watches the younger man get up and head for the door pulling himself together as he goes. With a soft click he's left alone with River. He waits until he's sure Jax is away from the door before he speaks softly.

"What didn't yeh tell him?" She rolls her eyes and shakes her head at the question but he narrows his eyes at her and asks again. "I know that's not all of it." She hesitates for a long moment and then moves to write.

 _Luis, the night Jax picked me up. He told me, don_ _'t worry Sofia, two more weeks._

Chibs stares down at the words and his mind flies as he does the mental math. They'd brought her in the week after the drug vote on a Tuesday night maybe. It's Monday so they're about a week into the timeline. They're halfway to whatever climax Luis has planned. "Two weeks until what?" His voice is dangerously soft and he knows she can tell.

 _I have no idea._

She's never lied to him yet and he knows she isn't now. She twists up words, withholds, and answers questions like a woman trained to deflect, which considering her background she may actually be, but she's never been directly dishonest. She looks as terrified as he feels.

"Dinner will be fun. Yeh'll like Tara and Jax's boys." The change in subject is sudden but Chibs is struggling to keep his head straight with all these new details. He smiles at her in an effort to lighten the mood even further and is rewarded with a small smile from her and the sign for eat. He laughs and nods. "Aye, there will be eating." The sign has reminded him of something else.

"I asked Juice about yer phone thing, he says he can get one without much trouble." Her eyes light up and she actually lets out a little laugh. The reaction seems a bit much considering but then again he has no idea how it all works, aside from the note system and learning a few rudimentary signs he hasn't really asked. "Is it hard, what yeh do when yeh read lips?"

The question seems to catch her by surprise and she gives him a strange look before ducking to write.

 _Yes, it is harder with new people. Right now is mostly new people. It requires constant and continuous focus. If the person isn_ _'t trying to help me I only pick up about 45% of what they say. Lip reading English is basically my fourth language._

He reads the note and taps on the word fourth raising his eyebrows in question.

 _ASL, written english, spoken english, & spoken Italian. I never learned to write much Italian, not as useful. _

He lets out a long whistle. "Very impressive lass. Another question for yeh, am I still new people?" He's flirting with her just a bit and she gives him another appraising look then writes.

 _Yes. Learn more signs then ask again._

He raises and eyebrow. "I know the basics! Yes, no, eat, where, yer name…" He trails off not wanting to list every sign she'd taught him, he hadn't been expecting her to put him on the spot like this and he's actually a little hurt. He thought he'd been doing well. She smiles indulgently and moves the pen.

 _You don_ _'t even know yes and no. I know 1 year olds with more ASL than you._

Her smile is teasing but her eyes are serious. He hides his embarrassment in more jokes. "This is yes," he says nodding his head, "and here's no" he switches to shaking. In response she holds up her right hand and points it towards him bringing her spread middle and index fingers down against her thumb twice her mouth silently forming the word no. He mimes the sign back and when he gets it right she makes a fist, thumb in front and nods it twice mouthing yes.

"So yeh've been nodding for our benefit." He's rewarded with the nodding fist. "And I'm not any good at sign language." She laughs and her fingers come down on her thumb in a very decisive no. "Point made." She laughs again and picks up the pen.

 _Thank you for trying._

"Aye, maybe when yeh get this phone I'll get that app thing Phil mentioned." She signs no quickly and starts writing.

 _The phone can never have connected to the internet. I_ _'ll need a toolkit when we get it to take out the receiver and a laptop. It's for talking not phone calls and internet._

He had many more questions about that but he lets them ride for now. "Juicy should be able to help yeh." Her fist moves in agreement and she finally gets up ripping the used pages off the notebook. He watches her rip them into minuscule pieces and then move toward the bathroom when he hears the toilet flush he understands. She knows how to cover her tracks.

* * *

 **Reviews are always welcome.**

 **There were two new signs introduced this chapter and the next one will have a more detailed conversation on lip reading. Lip reading is really hard guys. Like really hard. I had to learn how to read lips a bit for my own needs and I am not good at it. The way River reads lips in this story is almost supernatural and definitely supplemented to keep plot moving and reading easy. If you're interested in more about how hard it is to read lips I've put a video link in my profile. Or you can google "What it's Like to Read Lips" to find a 4 minute video from national geographic that really shows how difficult it can be.**

 **Until next time!**


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